PR  4974  M2  M3  18S0Z 
UN.V.RSITYOfCAUFpR.NlA^SAN^WEGO^, 


^.    ..J 


K>. 


H^ 


UNivtmtt  Oft 

CAUPOKNUk 
SANDIEQO 


jN>/tRSi^'    Of   CALIFORNIA     SA\    'J'.IC 


3   1822  0 


349  4398 


THE 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


OF 


Mary  Pov/ell, 


AFTERWARDS 


Mistress  Milton. 


NEW    YORK: 

DODD  &   MEAD,  PUBLISHERS, 

762  BROADWAY. 


THE 
Maiden  and  Married  Life 

OF 

MARY        POWELL, 

Afterwards  Mijlrcfs  Milton. 

JOURNALL. 

Foreft  Hill.,  Oxon,  May  ist,  1643. 
*  vf  *  tc-  Seventeenth  Birth- 
daye.  A  Gyplie  Woman  at  the  Gate 
woulde  faine  have  tolde  my  Fortune; 
but  Mother  chafed  her  away,  faying 
fhe  had  doubtlefTe  harboured  in  fome 
of  the  low  Houfcs  in  Oxford.,  and 
mighte  bring  us  the  Plague.  Coulde 
have  cried  for  Vexation  ;  fhe  had 
promifed  to  tell  me  the  Colour  of 
«  my 


1643. 

May  1st. 


1643. 


May  2nd. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

my  Hufband's  Eyes  ;  but  Mother 
fays  fhe  believes  I  fhall  never  have 
one,  I  am  foe  lillie.  Father  gave 
me  a  gold  Piece.  Dear  A/other  is 
chafed,  methinks,  touching  this 
Debt  of  five  hundred  Pounds,  which 
Father  fays  he  knows  not  how  to 
pay.  Indeed,  he  fayd,  overnighte, 
his  whole  perfonal  Eftate  amounts 
to  but  five  hundred  Pounds,  his 
Timber  and  Wood  to  four  hundred 
more,  or  thereabouts;  and  the  Tithes 
and  Meffuages  of  Whateley  are  no 
great  Matter,  being  mortgaged  for 
about  as  much  more,  and  he  hath 
lent  Sights  of  Money  to  them  that 
won't  pay,  fo  'tis  hard  to  be  thus 
preft.  Poor  Father !  'twas  good  of 
him  to  give  me  this  gold  Piece. 

Coufin  Rofe  married  to  Mafler 
Roger  Agnew.  Prefent,  Father,  Mo- 
ther,  and    Brother  of  Rofe;    Father, 

Mother^ 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Mother,  Dick,  Bob,  Harjy,  and  I ; 
Squire  Pake  and  his  Daughter 
Audrey;  an  olde  Aunt  of  Mafter 
Roger's,  and  one  of  his  Coufms,  a 
ftiffe-backed  Man  with  large  Eares, 
and  fuch  a  long  Nofe!  Coufin  Ro/e 
looked  bewtifulle  —  pitie  lb  faire  a 
Girl  fhould  marry  fo  olde  a  Man^ 
'tis  thoughte  he  wants  not  manie 
Years  of  fifty. 

New  Misfortunes  in  the  Poultrie 
Yarde.  Poor  Mother''s  Loyalty  can- 
not ftand  the  Demands  for  her  beft 
Chickens,  Ducklings,  &c.,  for  the 
Ufe  of  his  Majefty's  Officers  fince 
the  King  hath  beene  in  Oxford. 
She  accufeth  my  Father  of  having 
beene  wonne  over  by  a  few  faire 
Speeches  to  be  more  of  a  Ro3^alift 
than  his  natural  Temper  inclineth 
him  to ;  which,  of  courfe,  he  will 
not  admit. 

Whole 


1643. 


May  7th. 


i643- 
May  Sth. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Whole  Day  taken  up  in  a  Vifit 
to  Ro/e,  now  a  Week  married,  and 
growne  quite  matronlie  already.  We 
reached  Sheep/cote  about  an  Hour  be- 
fore Noone.  A  long,  broade,  ftrait 
Walke  of  green  Turf,  planted  with 
Hollyoaks,  Sunflowers,  &c.,  and 
fome  earlier  Flowers  alreadie  in 
Bloom,  led  up  to  the  rufticall  Porch 
of  a  truly  farm-like  Houfe,  with 
low  gable  Roofs,  a  long  lattice 
Window  on  either  Side  the  Doore, 
and  three  Cafements  above.  Such, 
and  no  more,  is  Rofe's  Houfe!  But 
flie  is  happy,  for  fhe  came  running 
forthe,  foe  foone  as  fhe  hearde 
Clover'^s  Feet,  and  helped  me  from 
my  Saddle  all  fmiling,  tho'  fhe  had 
not  expelled  to  fee  us.  We  had 
Curds  and  Creame;  and  fhe  wiflied 
it  were  the  Time  of  Strawberries, 
for  fhe  fayd  they  had  large  Beds ; 
and   then   my  Father  and   the   Boys 

went 


of  Mary  Powell. 


went  forthe  to  looke  for  Mafter 
Agnew.  Then  Rofe  took  me  up  to 
her  Chamber,  finging  as  fhe  went ; 
and  the  long,  low  Room  was  fweet 
with  Flowers.  Sayd  I,  "  Rofc,  to 
"  be  Miftrefs  of  this  pretty  Cottage, 
"  'twere  hardlie  amifle  to  marry  a 
"  Man  as  olde  as  Mafter  RogerP 
"Olde!"  quoth  fhe,  "  deare  Moll, 
"you  mull;  not  deeme  him  olde; 
"  why,  he  is  but  forty-two  ;  and  am 
"  not  I  twenty-three  }  "  She  lookt 
foe  earnefle  and  hurte,  that  I  coulde 
not  but  falle  a  laughing. 


1643. 


Mother  gone  to  Sandford.  She 
hopes  to  get  Uncle  Jolm  to  lend 
Father  this  Money.  Father  fays  fhe 
may  try.  'Tis  harde  to  difcouragc 
her  with  an  ironicalle  Smile,  when 
fhe  is  doing  alle  fhe  can,  and  more 
than  manie  Women  woulde,  to  help 
Father  in   his  Difficultie  ;    but  fuche, 

fhe 


Ma  J  9th. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  fhe  fayth  fomewhat  bitterlie,  is  the 
Lot  of  our  Sex.  She  bade  Father 
mind  that  fhe  had  brought  him  three 
thoufand  Pounds,  and  afkt  what  had 
come  of  them.  Anfwered  \  helped 
to  tille  the  Mouths  of  nine  healthy 
Children,  and  flop  the  Mouth  of  an 
eafie  Hufband;  foe,  with  a  Kifs,  made 
it  up.  I  have  the  Keys,  and  am  left 
Miftreffe  of  alle,  to  m}^  greate  Con- 
tentment; but  the  Children  clamour 
for  Sweetmeats,  and  Father  fayth, 
"  Remember,  Moll^  Difcretion  is  the 
"  better  Part  of  Valour." 

After  Mother  had  left,  went  into 
the  Paddock,  to  feed  the  Colts  with 
Bread;  and  while  they  were  putting 
their  Nofes  into  Robijts  Pockets, 
Dick  brought  out  the  two  Ponies, 
and  fet  me  on  one  of  them,  and  we 
had  a  mad  Scamper  through  the 
Meadows  and  down  the  Lanes  ;  I 
leading.      Juft  at  the  Turne  of  Hol- 

ford''s 


of  Mary  Powell. 


ford's  Clofe,  came  fhorte  upon  a  Gen- 
tleman walking  under  the  Hedge, 
clad  in  a  fober,  genteel  Suit,  and  of 
molt  beautifulle  Countenance,  with 
Hair  like  a  Woman's,  of  a  lovely 
pale  brown,  long  and  filky,  falling 
over  his  Shoulders.  I  nearlie  went 
over  him,  for  Clover's  hard  Forehead 
knocked  agaynft  his  Cheft  ;  but  he 
ftoode  it  like  a  Rock;  and  lookinge 
firfle  at  me  and  then  at  Dicke,  he 
fmiled  and  fpoke  to  my  Brother,  who 
feemed  to  know  him,  and  turned 
about  and  walked  by  us,  fometimes 
ftroaking  Clovcr'^s  fhaggy  Mane.  I 
felte  a  little  afhamed;  for  Dick  had 
fett  me  on  the  Poney  jufh  as  I  was, 
my  Gown  fomewhat  too  ftiorte  for 
riding  :  however,  I  drew^e  up  my 
Feet  and  let  Clover  nibble  a  little 
Grafle,  and  then  got  rounde  to  the 
neare  Side,  our  new  Companion 
ftille    between    us.      He    offered    me 

fome 


1643. 


8 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

fome  wild  Flowers,  and  alkt  me 
theire  Names  ;  and  when  I  tolde 
them,  he  fayd  I  knew  more  than 
he  did,  though  he  accounted  him- 
felfe  a  prettie  fayre  Botanifte  :  and 
we  went  on  thus,  talking  of  the 
Herbs  and  Simples  in  the  Hedges ; 
and  I  fayd  how  prettie  fome  of  theire 
Names  were,  and  that,  methought, 
though  Adam  had  named  alle  the 
Animals  in  Paradife,  perhaps  Eve 
had  named  alle  the  Flowers.  He 
lookt  earneftlie  at  me,  on  this,  and 
muttered  "  prettie."  Then  Dick 
afkt  of  him  News  from  London^  and 
he  fpoke,  methought,  refervedlie  ; 
ever  and  anon  turning  his  bright, 
thoughtfulle  eyes  on  me.  At  length, 
we  parted  at  the  Turn  of  the  Lane. 

I  alkt  Dick  who  he  was,  and  he 
told  me  he  was  one  Mr.  yohn  Milton, 
the  Party  to  whom  Father  owed  five 
hundred  Pounds.     He  was  the  Sonne 

of 


of  Mary  Powell. 


of  a  BiickinghamJJiire  Gentleman,  he 
added,  well  conne6ted,  and  very 
fcholaric,  but  affe6led  towards  the 
Parliament.  His  Grandlire,  a  zea- 
lous Papifte,  formerly  lived  in  Oxon, 
and  difinherited  the  Father  of  this 
Gentleman  for  abjuring  the  Romi/h 
Faith. 

When  I  found  how  faire  a  Gen- 
tleman was  Fathers  Creditor,  I  be- 
came the  more  interefted  in  deare 
Mother's  Succeffe. 

Diek  began  to  harpe  on  another 
Ride  to  Sheep/cote  this  Morning,  and 
perfuaded  Father  to  let  him  have 
the  bay  Mare,  foe  he  and  I  ftarted 
at  about  Ten  o'  the  Clock.  Arrived 
at  Mafter  Agnew's  Doore,  found  it 
open,  no  one  in  Parlour  or  Studdy  ; 
foe  Dick  tooke  the  Horfes  rounde, 
and  then  we  went  ftraite  thro'  the 
Houfe,     into     the     Garden     behind, 

which 


1643. 


May  13th. 


lO 


Maidefi  &  Married  Life 


1643.  which  is  on  a  riling  Ground,  with 
pleached  Alleys  and  turfen  Walks, 
and  a  Peep  of  the  Church  through 
the  Trees.  A  Lad  tolde  us  his 
Miftrefs  was  with  the  Bees,  foe  we 
walked  towards  the  Hives  ;  and, 
from  an  Arbour  hard  by,  hearde  a 
Murmur,   thous^h    not   of  Bees,   iflu- 


mg 


In  this  rufticall  Bowre,  found 
Roger  Agnew  reading  to  Rofe  and 
to  Mr.  Milton.  Thereupon  enfued 
manie  cheerfulle  Salutations,  and  Rofe 
propofed  returning  to  the  Houfe,  but 
Mafter  Agnezu  fayd  it  was  pleafanter 
in  the  Bowre,  where  was  Room  for 
alle  ;  foe  then  Rofe  offered  to  take 
me  to  her  Chamber  to  lay  alide  my 
Hoode,  and  promifed  to  fend  a  Jun- 
kett  into  the  Arbour  ;  whereon  Mr. 
Ascnezv  fmiled  at  Mr.  Milton,  and 
fayd      fomewhat     of     "  neat-handed 

"  Phiiiisr 

As   we   went   alonge,   I   told   Rofe 

I 


of  Mary  Powell.  ii 


I  had  feene  her  Gueft  once  before,  1643. 
and  thought  him  a  comely,  pleafant 
Gentleman.  She  laught,  and  fayd, 
"  Pleafant  ?  why,  he  is  one  of  the 
"  greateft  Scholars  of  our  Time,  and 
"  knows  more  Languages  than  you 
"  or  I  ever  hearde  of"  I  made 
Anfwer,  "  That  may  be,  and  yet 
"  might  not  enfure  his  being  plea- 
"  fant,  but  rather  the  contrary,  for 
"  I  cannot  reade  Greeke  and  Latin, 
'' Ro/e,  like  you."  Quoth  Ro/e, 
"  but  you  can  reade  EnglifJi,  and  he 
"  hath  writ  fome  of  the  lovelieft 
"  EngliJJi  Verfes  you  ever  hearde, 
"  and  hath  brought  us  a  new  Com- 
"  pofure  this  Morning,  which  Roger, 
"  being  his  olde  College  Friend,  was 
"  difcuffing  with  him,  to  my  greate 
"  Pleafure,  when  you  came.  After 
"  we  have  eaten  the  Junkett,  he 
"  fhall  beginne  it  again."  "  By  no 
"  Means,"  faid  I,  "  for  I  love  Talking 

"  more 


12 


i643- 


Maide7i  &  Married  Life 

»  "  

"  more  than  Reading."  However, 
it  was  not  foe  to  be,  for  Rofe  woulde 
not  be  foyled  \  and  as  it  woulde  not 
have  been  good  Manners  to  decline 
the  Hearinge  in  Prefence  of  the 
Poet,  I  was  conftrayned  to  fuppreffe 
a  fecret  Yawne,  and  feign  Attention, 
though,  Truth  to  fay,  it  foone.  wan- 
dered ;  and,  during  the  lafl  halfe 
Hour,  I  fat  in  a  compleat  Dreame, 
tho'  not  unpleafant  one.  Roger 
having  made  an  End,  'twas  diverting 
to  heare  him  commending  the  Piece 
unto  the  Author,  who  as  gravely 
accepted  it;  yet,  with  Nothing  fulle- 
fome  about  the  one,  or  mifproud 
about  the  other.  Indeed,  there  was 
a  fedate  SweetnefTe  in  the  Poet's 
Wordes  as  well  as  Lookes  \  and 
fhortlie,  waiving  the  Difcuffion  of 
his  owne  Compofures,  he  beganne 
to  talke  of  thofe  of  other  Men,  as 
Shak/peare,     Spen/er,     Cowley,     Ben 

Jon/on, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Jon/on,  and  of  Taffo^  and  Tajfd's 
Friend  the  Marquis  of  Villa^  whome, 
it  appeared,  Mr.  Miltoji  had  Know- 
ledge of  in  Italy.  Then  he  aikt  me, 
woulde  I  not  willingly  have  feene 
the  Country  of  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
and  preft  to  know  whether  I  loved 
Poetry ;  but  finding  me  loath  to  tell, 
fayd  he  doubted  not  I  preferred  Ro- 
mances, and  that  he  had  read  manie, 
and  loved  them  dearly  too.  I  fayd, 
I  loved  Shakfpcare^s  Plays  better  than 
Sidney's  Arcadia  ;  on  which  he  cried 
"  Righte,"  and  drew  nearer  to  me, 
and  woulde  have  talked  at  greater 
length  ;  but,  knowing  from  Rofe 
how  learned  he  was,  I  feared  to 
fhew  him  I  was  a  fillie  Foole  ;  foe, 
like  a  fillie  Foole,  held  my  Tongue. 

Dinner ;  Eggs,  Bacon,  roaft  Ribs 
of  Lamb,  Spinach,  Potatoes,  fa- 
voury  Pie,  a  Brentford  Pudding, 
and     Cheefecakes.      What    a    pretty 

Houfewife 


13 

1643. 


14  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

— 

1643.  Houfewife  Rofe  is  !  Roger's  plain 
Hofpitalitie  and  fcholaric  Difcourfe 
appeared  to  much  Advantage.  He 
alkt  of  News  from  Paris ;  and  Mr. 
Milton  fpoke  much  of  the  SwediJJi 
AmbalTadour,  Dtttch  by  Birth  ;  a 
Man  renowned  for  his  Learning, 
Magnanimity,  and  Misfortunes,  of 
whome  he  had  feene  much.  He 
tolde  Rofe  and  me  how  this  Mifter 
Va7i  der  Groote  had  been  unjuflHe 
cafte  into  Prifon  by  his  Countrymen  ; 
and  how  his  good  Wife  had  fhared 
his  Captivitie,  and  had  tried  to  get 
his  Sentence  reverfed  ;  faiHng  which, 
fhe  contrived  his  Efcape  in  a  big 
Cheft,  which  fhe  pretended  to  be 
full  of  heavie  olde  Bookes.  Mr. 
Alilton  concluded  with  the  Excla- 
mation, "  Indeede,  there  never  was 
"  fuch  a  Woman;"  on  which,  deare 
Roger,  whome  I  bcginne  to  love, 
quoth,    "  Oh    yes,    there     are    manie 

fuch, 


a 


of  Mary  Powell. 


15 


"  fuch,  —  we  have  two  at  Table 
"  now."  Whereat,       Mr.     Milton 

fmiled. 

At  Leave-taking  preffed  Mr.  Ag- 
new  and  Ro/e  to  come  and  fee  us 
foone  ;  and  Dick  afkt  Mr.  Alilton 
to  fee  the  Bowling  Greene. 

Ride  Home,  delightfulle. 


1643. 


Thought,  when  I  woke  this  Morn- 
ing, I  had  been  dreaminge  of  St. 
Paul  let  down  the  Wall  in  a  Bafket ; 
but  founde,  on  more  clofely  examin- 
ing the  Matter,  'twas  Grolius  carried 
down  the  Ladder  in  a  Cheft ;  and 
methought  I  was  his  Wife,  leaninge 
from  the  Window  above,  and  crying 
to  the  Souldiers,  "  Have  a  Care,  have 
a  Care  ! "  'Tis  certayn  I  fhoulde  have 
betraied  him  by  an  Over-anxietie. 

"Rcfolved  to  give  Father  a  Shcepf- 
cote  Dinner,  but  Margery  affirmed 
the  Haunch  woulde  no  longer  keepe, 

fo 


May  i4tli. 


1 6  Maiden  &  Afarrzed  Life 

1643.  lb  was  forced  to  have  it  dreft,  though 
meaning  to  have  kept  it  for  Com- 
panie.  Little  Kate,  w^ho  had  been 
out  alle  the  Morning,  came  in  w^ith 
her  Lap  full  of  Butter-burs,  the 
which  I  was  glad  to  fee,  as  Mother 
efteemes  them  a  fovereign  Remedie 
'gainft  the  Plague,  which  is  like  to 
be  rife  in  Oxford  this  Summer,  the 
Citie  being  fo  overcrowded  on  ac- 
count of  his  Majeflie.  While  laying 
them  out  on  the  Stille-room  Floor, 
in  burfts  Robin  to  say  Mr.  Agnew 
and  Mr.  Milton  were  with  Father  at 
the  Bowling  Greene,  and  woulde 
dine  here.  Soe  was  glad  Margery 
had  put  down  the  Haunch.  'Twas 
paft  One  o'  the  Clock,  however,  be- 
fore it  coulde  be  fett  on  Table  ;  and 
I  had  jufh  run  up  to  pin  on  my  Car- 
nation Knots,  when  I  hearde  them 
alle  come  in  difcourfing  merrilie. 
At  Dinner  Mr.  Milton   afkt  Robin 

of 


of  Mary  Powell. 


of  his  Studdies  ;  ^md  I  was  in  Payne 
for  the  deare  Boy,  knowing  him  to 
be  better  affeaed  to  his  'out-doore 
Recreations  than  to  his  Booke  ;  but 
he  anfwered  boldlie  he  was  in  Ovid^ 
and  I  lookt  in  Mr.  Milton's  Face  to 
gueffe  was  that  goode  Scholarfhip 
or  no  ;  but  he  turned  it  towards  my 
Father,  and  fayd  he  was  trying  an 
Experiment  on  two  young  Nephews 
of  his  owne,  whether  the  reading 
thofe  Authors  that  treate  of  phyfical 
Subje6ls  mighte  not  advantage  them 
more  than  the  Poets  ;  whereat  my 
Father  jefted  with  him,  he  being 
himfelfe  one  of  the  Fraternitie  he 
feemed  to  defpife.  But  he  uphelde 
his  Arijumente  fo  bravelie,  that 
Father  liftened  in  earnefle  Silence. 
Meantime,  the  Cloth  being  drawne, 
and  I  in  Feare  of  remaining  over 
long,  was  avifed  to  withdrawe  my- 
felfe  earlie,  Robin  follow^ing,  and 
c  begging 


17 
1643. 


i8 


1643. 


May  15th. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

begging  me  to  goe  downe  to  the 
Fifh-ponds.  Afterwards  alle  the 
others  joyned  us,  and  we  fate  on 
the  Steps  till  the  Sun  went  down, 
when,  the  Horfes  being  broughte 
round,  our  Guefts  tooke  Leave 
without  returning  to  the  Houfe. 
Father  walked  thoughtfullie  Home 
with  me,  leaning  on  my  Shoulder, 
and  fpake  little. 

After  writing  the  above  laft  Night, 
in  my  Chamber,  went  to  Bed  and 
had  a  moft  heavenlie  Dreame.  Me- 
thoughte  it  was  brighte,  brighte 
Moonlighte,  and  I  was  walking 
with  Mr.  Milto7i  on  a  Terrace, — not 
our  Terrace,  but  in  fome  outlandifh 
Place  ;  and  it  had  Flights  and  Flights 
of  green  marble  Steps,  defcending, 
I  cannot  tell  how  farre,  with  ftone 
Figures  and  Vafes  on  everie  one. 
We  went  downe    and  downe    these 

Steps, 


of  Mary  Powell.  19 


Steps,  till  we  came  to  a  faire  Piece  1643. 
of  Water,  flill  in  the  Moonlighte ; 
and  then,  methoughte,  he  woulde 
be  taking  Leave,  and  fayd  much 
aboute  Abfence  and  Sorrowe,  as 
tho'  we  had  knowne  cache  other 
fome  Space ;  and  alle  that  he  fayd 
was  delightfulle  to  heare.  Of  a 
fuddain  we  hearde  Cries,  as  of  Dif- 
treffe,  in  a  Wood  that  came  quite 
down  to  the  Water's  Edge,  and  Mr. 
Milton  fayd,  "  Hearken  ! "  and  then, 
"  There  is  fome  one  being  flainc  in 
"  the  Woode,  I  muft  goe  to  refcue 
"him;"  and  foe,  drewe  his  Sword 
and  ran  off.  Meanwhile,  the  Cries 
continued,  but  I  did  not  feeme  to 
mind  them  much  ;  and,  looking 
ftedfaftlie  down  into  the  cleare 
Water,  coulde  fee  to  an  immeafur- 
able  Depth,  and  beheld,  oh,  rare  ! 
Girls     fitting"    on     sflifteninof     Rocks, 


far    downe    beneathe,    combing    and 

braiding 


20  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  braiding  their  brighte  Hair,  and 
talking  and  laughing,  onlie  I  coulde 
not  heare  aboute  what.  And  theire 
Kirtles  were  like  fpun  Glafs,  and 
theire  Bracelets  Coral  and  Pearl  ; 
and  I  thought  it  the  faireft  Sight 
that  Eyes  coulde  fee.  But,  alle  at 
once,  the  Cries  in  the  Wood  af- 
frighted them,  for  they  ftarted, 
looked  upwards  and  alle  aboute, 
and  began  fwimming  thro'  the  cleare 
Water  fo  faft,  that  it  became  troubled 
and  thick,  and  I  coulde  fee  them  noe 
more.  Then  I  was  aware  that  the 
Voices  in  the  Wood  were  of  Dick 
and  Harry ^  calling  for  me;  and  I 
foughte  to  anfwer,  "  Here  ! "  but 
my  Tongue  was  heavie.  Then  I 
commenced  running  towards  them, 
through  ever  fo  manic  greene  Paths, 
in  the  AVood  ;  but  ftill,  we  coulde 
never  meet  ;  and  I  began  to  fee 
grinning  Faces,   neither  of  Man  nor 

Beafte, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Beafte,  peeping  at  me  through  the 
Trees  ;  and  one  and  another  of  them 
called  me  by  Name  ;  and  in  greate 
Feare  and  Paine  I  awoke  ! 


^     * 


Strange    Things    are 


Dreames.  Dear  Mother  thinks  much 
of  them,  and  fayth  they  oft  portend 
coming  Events.  My  Father  holdeth 
the  Opinion  that  they  are  rather 
made  up  of  what  hath  alreadie  come 
to  pafTe  ;  but  furelie  naught  like  this 
Dreame  of  mine  hath  in  anie  Part 
befallen  me  hithertoe  ? 

^  «•  -If  *  What  ftrange  Fable 
or  Mafque  were  they  reading  that 
Day  at  Sheep/cote  ?     I  mind  not. 

Too  much  bufied  of  late  to  write, 
though  much  hath  happened  which 
I  woulde  fain  remember.  Dined  at 
Shotover  yefterday.  Met  Mother^ 
who  is  coming  Home  in  a  Day  or 
two,    but    helde    fhort    Speech    with 

me 


21 


1643. 


May  2otli 


22 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


me  alide  concerning  Houfewifery. 
The  Agneivs  there,  of  courfe  :  alfoe 
Mr.  Milton^  whom  we  have  feene 
continualHe,  lately ;  and  I  know  not 
how  it  flioulde  be,  but  he  feemeth 
to  like  me.  Father  affefts  him 
much,  but  Mother  loveth  him  not. 
She  hath  feene  little  of  him  ;  per- 
haps the  lefs  the  better.  Ralph 
Hewlett,  as  ufuall,  forward  in  his 
rough  Endeavours  to  pleafe  ;  but, 
though  no  Scholar,  I  have  yet  Senfe 
enough  to  prefer  Mr.  Miltor^s  Dif- 
courfe  to  his.  -J^-  *  *  ^«-  I  wifh  I  were 
fonder  of  Studdy ;  but,  iince  it  can- 
not be,  what  need  to  vex  ?  Some  are 
born  of  one  Mind,  fome  of  another. 
Rofe  was  alwaies  for  her  Booke  ;  and, 
had  Rofe  beene  no  Scholar,  Islx.Agiiew 
woulde,  may  be,  never  have  given 
her  a  fecond  Thoughte  :  but  alle  are 
not  of  the  fame  Way  of  thinking. 
«■    *    *    «    ^  fg^  Lines  received 

from 


of  Mary  Powell. 


from  Mothers  "  fpoilt  Boy,"  as  Fa- 
ther hath  called  Brother  Bill,  ever 
lince  he  went  a  foldiering.  Blurred 
and  mis-fpelt  as  they  are,  fhe  will 
prize  them.  Trulie,  we  are  none 
of  us  grate  Hands  at  the  Pen ;  'tis 
well  I  make  this  my  Copie-booke. 


* 


*     -K- 


Oh,  Itrange  Event  ! 
Can  this  be  Happineffe  ?  Why, 
then,  am  I  foe  feared,  foe  mazed, 
foe  prone  to  Weeping  ?  I  woulde 
that  Mother  were  here.  Lord  have 
Mercie  on  me  a  finfulle,  fillie  Girl, 
and  guide  my  Steps  arighte. 

*  *  *  ^'  It  feemes  like  a  Dreame, 
(I  have  done  noughte  but  dreame  of 
late,  I  think,)  my  going  along  the 
matted  Paffage,  and  hearing  Voices 
in  my  Father's  Chamber,  juft  as  my 
Hand  was  on  the  Latch  ;  and  my 
withdrawing  my  Hand,  and  going 
foftlie   away,  though   I   never  paufed 

at 


23 


1643. 


May  22d. 


24 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

at  difturbing  him  before  ;  and,  after 
I  had  beene  a  full  Houre  in  the 
Stille  Room,  turning  over  ever  foe 
manie  Trays  full  of  dried  Herbs  and 
Flower-leaves,  hearing  him  come 
forthe  and  call,  "  Moll,  deare  Moll, 
"  w^here  are  you  ? "  vv^ith  I  know 
not  what  of  ftrange  in  the  Tone  of 
his  Voice  ;  and  my  running  to  him 
haftilie,  and  his  drawing  me  into  his 
Chamber,  and  doling  the  Doore. 
Then  he  takes  me  round  the  Waifte, 
and  remains  quite  filent  awhile  ;  I 
gazing  on  him  fo  ftrangelie  !  and  at 
length,  he  fays  with  a  Kind  of  Sigh, 
"  Thou  art  indeed  but  young  yet  ! 
"  fcarce  feventeen,  —  and  frefh,  as 
"  Mr.  Milton  fays,  as  the  earlie  May  ; 

too    tender,    forfooth,    to    leave    us 
'  yet,  fweet  Child  !      But  what  wilt 

fay,  Moll,  when  I  tell  thee  that  a 
"  well-efteemed  Gentleman,  whom 
"  as  yet  indeed  I  know  too  little  of, 

"  hath 


u 


a 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  hath  craved  of  me  Accefs  to  the 
"  Houfe  as  one  that  woulde  win 
"  your  Favour  ?" 

Thereupon,  fuch  a  fuddain  Faint- 
nefs  of  the  Spiritts  overtooke  me, 
(a  Thing  I  am  noe  way  fubjeft  to,) 
as  that  I  fell  down  in  a  Swound  at 
Father's  Feet ;  and  w^hen  I  came  to 
myfelfe  agayn,  my  Hands  and  Feet 
feemed  full  of  Prickles,  and  there 
was  a  Humming  as  of  Ro/e's  Bees, 
in  mine  Ears.  Lcttice  and  Margery 
were  tending  of  me,  and  Father 
watching  me  full  of  Care  ;  but  foe 
foone  as  he  faw  me  open  mine  Eyes, 
he  bade  the  Maids  ftand  afide,  and 
fayd,  ftooping  over  me,  ^'  Enough, 
"  dear  Moll ;  we  will  talk  noe  more 
"  of  this  at  prefent."  "  Onlie  juft 
"  tell  me,"  quoth  I,  in  a  Whifper, 
"who  it  is.'-'  "Gueffe,"  fayd  he. 
"  I  cannot,"  I  foftlie  replied  ;  and, 
with   the  Lie,  came   fuch  a  Rufh   of 

Blood 


25 


1643- 


26 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  Blood  to  my  Cheeks  as  betraied  me. 
"  I  am  fure  you  have,  though,"  fayd 
deare  Father^  graveHe,  "  and  I  neede 
"  not  lay  it  is  Mr.  Milton^  of  whome 
"  I  know  Httle  more  than  you  doe, 
"  and  that  is  not  enough.  On  the 
"  other  Hand,  Roger  Ag7iew  fayth 
"  that  he  is  one  of  whome  we 
"  can  never  know  too  much,  and 
"  there  is  fomewhat  about  him 
"  which  inclines  me  to  beheve  it." 
"What  will  Mother  foy?"  inter- 
rupted I.  Thereat  Fathcr'^s  Coun- 
tenance changed  ;  and  he  haftilie 
anfwered,  "  Whatever  flie  likes :  I 
"  have  an  Anfwer  for  her,  and  a 
"  Qiieftion  too  ; "  and  abruptlie  left 
me,  bidding  me  keepe  myfelfe  quiet. 
But  can  I  ?  Oh,  no  !  Father  hath 
fett  a  Stone  rolling,  unwitting  of  its 
Courfe.  It  hath  proftrated  me  in 
the  firft  Inftance,  and  will,  I  mif- 
doubt,   hurt    my   Mother.      Father  is 

bold 


of  Mary  Powell.  27 


bold  enow  in  her  Abfence,  but  when  1643. 
Ihe  comes  back  will  leave  me  to  face 
her  Anger  alone  ;  or  elfe,  make  fuch 
a  Stir  to  fhew  that  he  is  not  governed 
by  a  Woman,  as  wille  make  Things 
worfe.  Meanwhile,  how  woulde 
I  have  them  ?  Am  I  moft  pleafed 
or  payned  ?  difmayed  or  flattered  ? 
Indeed,  I  know  not. 

•55-    *    ^    -K-    J  ^j^-j  £-Qg  forry  to  have 

fwooned.  Needed  I  have  done  it, 
merelie  to  heare  there  was  one  who 
foughte  my  Favour  ?  A3'e,  but  one 
foe  wife  !  fo  thoughtfulle  !  fo  unlike 
me  ! 

Bedtime  ;  fame  Dayc. 
*  *  *  *  Who  knoweth  what  a 
Daye  will  bring  forth  }  After  writing 
the  above,  I  fate  like  one  ftupid, 
ruminating  on  I  know  not  what, 
except  on  the  Unlikelihood  that  one 
foe  w^ife  wouldc  trouble  himfelfe  to 
feeke  for  aught   and   yet   fail   to  zuin. 

After 


28 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


After  abiding  a  long  Space  in  mine 
owne  Chamber,  alle  below  feeming 
ftill,  I  began  to  wonder  fhoulde  ,we 
dine  alone  or  not,  and  to  have  a 
hundred  hot  and  cold  Fitts  of  Hope 
and  Feare.  Thought  I,  if  Mr. 
Milton  comes,  afTuredlie  I  cannot 
goe  down  ;  but  yet  I  mufl; ;  but  yet 
I  will  not;  but  yet  the  beft  will  be 
to  condu6t  myfelfe  as  though  Nothing 
had  happened  ;  and,  as  he  feems  to 
have  left  the  Houfe  long  ago,  maybe 
he  hath  returned  to  Sheep/cote,  or 
even  to  London.  Oh  that  London  ! 
Shall  I  indeede  ever  fee  it  ?  and  the 
rare  Shops,  and  the  Play-houfes,  and 
PauVs^  and  the  Towre?  But  what 
and  if  that  ever  comes  to  pafs  ? 
Mufb  I  leave  Home  ?  dear  Forejl 
Hill?  and  Father  and  Mother,  and  the 
Boys?  more  efpeciallie  7^6'(^/;^/  Ah! 
but  Father  will  give  me  a  long  Time 
to  think  of  it.      He  will,  and  mull. 

Then 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Then  Dinner-time  came  ;  and, 
with  Dinner-time,  Uncle  Hewlett 
and  Ralphs  Squire  Paice  and  Mr. 
Milto7i.  We  had  a  huge  Sirloin, 
foe  no  Feare  of  fhort  Commons. 
I  w^as  not  ill  pleafed  to  fee  foe 
manie  :  it  gave  me  an  Excufe  for 
holding  my  Peace,  but  I  coulde 
have  wifhed  for  another  Woman. 
However,  Father  never  thinks  of 
that,  and  Mother  will  foone  be 
Home.  After  Dinner  the  elder 
Men  went  to  the  Bowling-grcene 
with  Dick  and  Ralph;  the  Boys  to 
the  Fifh-ponds  ;  and,  or  ever  I  was 
aware,  Mr.  Milton  was  walking  with 
me  on  the  Terrace.  My  Dreame 
came  foe  forcibly  to  Mind,  that 
my  Heart  feemed  to  leap  into  my 
Mouth  ;  but  he  kept  away  from 
the  Fifh-ponds,  and  from  Leave- 
taking,  and  from  his  morning  Dif- 
courfe    with     my    Father^ — at    leafl 

for 


29 

1643. 


30 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  for  awhile ;  but  fome  Way  he  got 
round  to  it,  and  fayd  foe  much,  and 
foe  well,  that,  after  alle  my  Father's 
bidding  me  keepe  quiete  and  take 
my  Time,  and  mine  owne  Refolu- 
tion  to  think  much  and  long,  he 
never  refted  till  he  had  changed  the 
whole  Appearance  of  Things,  and 
made  me  promife  to  be  his,  wholly 
and  trulie. — And  oh  !  I  feare  I  have 
been  too  quickly  wonne  ! 


May 23d.  May  23d.  At  leafte,  fo  fayeth  the 
Calendar;  but  with  me  it  hath  beene 
trulie  an  April  Daye,  alle  Smiles  and 
Teares.  And  now  my  Spiritts  are 
foe  perturbed  and  difmaid,  as  that 
I  know  not  whether  to  weepe  or 
no,  for  methinks  crying  would  re- 
lieve me.  At  firft  waking  this 
Morning  my  Mind  was  elated  at 
the  Falhtie  of  my  Moiher's  Notion, 
that  no  Man  of  Senfe  woulde  think 

me 


of  Mary  Powell. 


me  worth  the  having ;  and  foe  I  got 

up    too    proude,    I    think,    and    came 

down    too   vain,   for   I   had   fpent   an 

unufuall    Time    at    the    Glaffe.      My 

Spiritts,     alfoe,    were     foe     unequall, 

that  the  Boys  took  Notice  of  it,  and 

it  feemed  as  though  I  coulde  breathe 

nowhere   but   out  of  Doors  ;    fo   the 

Children  and  I  had  a  rare  Game  of 

Play   in   the   Home-clofe  ;    but   ever 

and  anon  I  kept  looking  towards  the 

Road  and  liftening  for  Horfes'  Feet, 

till   Robin    fayd,   "  One   would    think 

"  the    King   was    coming  : "    but    at 

laft  came   Mr.  Milton^  quite  another 

Way,    walking    through    the    Fields 

with    huge   Strides.      Kate  faw   him 

firfle,  and  tolde  me  ;    and  then  fayd. 

What  makes  3^ou  look  foe  pale?" 
*  -x-  *  *  * 

We  fate  a  good  Space  under  the 
Hawthorn  Hedge  on  the  Brow  of 
the    Hill,    liftening    to    the    Mower's 

Scythe, 


31 
1643. 


32 


i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Scythe,  and  the  Song  of  Birds,  which 
feemed  enough  for  him,  without 
talking ;  and  as  he  fpake  not,  I  helde 
my  Peace,  till,  with  the  Sun  in  my 
Eyes,  I  was  like  to  drop  afleep  ; 
which,  as  his  own  Face  was  from 
me,  and  towards  the  Landfkip,  he 
noted  not.  I  was  jufh  aiming,  for 
Mirthe's  Sake,  to  fteale  away,  when 
he  fuddainlie  turned  about  and  fell 
to  fpeaking  of  rurall  Life,  Happi- 
neffe.  Heaven,  and  fuch  like,  in  a 
Kind  of  Rapture  ;  then,  with  his 
Elbow  half  railing  him  from  the 
Grafs,  lay  looking  at  me  ;  then 
commenced  humming  or  linging  I 
know  not  what  Strayn,  but  'twas  of 
'  becrli  Occhi '  and  '  Ckioma  aurata  ; ' 
and  he  kept  fmiling  the  while  he 
fang. 

After  a  Time  we  went  In-doors ; 
and  then  came  my  firfte  Pang :  for 
Father  founde  out  how  I  had  pledged 

myfelfe 


of  Mary  Powell. 


myfelfe  overnighte ;  and  for  a  oNIo- 
ment  looked  foe  grave,  that  my 
Heart  inifgave  me  for  having  beene 
foe  haftie.  However,  it  soonc  paff- 
ed  off;  deare  Fathers  Countenance 
cleared,  and  he  even  feemed  nierrie 
at  Table  ;  and  foon  after  Dinner 
alle  the  Party  difperfed  fave  Mr. 
Milton^  who  loitered  with  me  on 
the  Terrace.  After  a  fliort  Silence 
he  exclaimed,  "  How  good  is  our 
"  God  to  us  in  alle  his  Gifts  !  For 
"  Inftance,  in  this  Gift  of  Love, 
"  whereby  had  he  withdrawn  from 
"  vilible  Nature  a  thoufand  of  its 
"  glorious  Features  and  gay  Colour- 
"  ings,  we  fhoulde  ftill  poffefs,  from 
"  within,  the  Means  of  throwing 
"  over  her  clouded  Face  an  entirelie 
"  different  Hue  !  while  as  it  is,  what 
"  was  plcafing  before  now  pleafeth 
"  more  than  ever  !  Is  it  not  foe, 
"fweet  Moll?  INIay  I  exprefs  thy 
1) 


"  Feelings 


T^Z 


1643- 


34  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  "  Feelings  as  well  as  mine  own, 
"  unblamed  ?  or  am  I  too  adven- 
"  turous  ?  You  are  lilent  ;  well, 
"  then,  let  me  believe  that  we  think 
"  alike,  and  that  the  Emotions  of 
"  the  few  lafte  Hours  have  given 
"  fuch  an  Impulfe  to  alle  that  is 
"  high,  and  fweete,  and  deepe,  and 
"  pure,  and  holy  in  our  innermofte 
"  Hearts,  as  that  we  feeme  now 
"  onlie  firfte  to  tafte  the  Life  of 
"  Life,  and  to  perceive  how  much 
"  nearer  Earth  is  to  Heaven  than 
"we  thought!  Is  it  foe?  Is  it  not 
"foe?"  and  I  was  conftrayned  to 
fay,  "  Yfs,"  at  I  fcarcelie  knew 
what ;  grudginglie  too,  for  I  feared 
having  once  alreadie  fayd  "  Yes " 
too  foone.  But  he  faw  '  nought 
amilTe,  for  he  was  expecting  nought 
amiffe  ;  foe  went  on,  moft  like  Truth 
and  Love  that  Lookes  could  fpeake 
or    Words    founde  :     "  Oh,    I    know 

"it. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


''it,  I  feel  it:  —  henceforthe  there 
"  is  a  Life  referved  for  us  in  which 
"  Angels  may  f^'mpathize.  For  this 
"  moft  excellent  Gift  of  Love  fhall 
"  enable  us  to  read  together  the 
"  whole  Booke  of  San6lity  and  Vir- 
"  tue,  and  emulate  cache  other  in 
"  carrying  it  into  Practice  ;  and  as 
"  the  wife  Magiaiis  kept  theire  Eyes 
"  fheadfaftlie  fixed  on  the  Star,  and 
"  followed  it  righte  on,  through 
"  rough  and  fmoothe,  foe  we,  with 
"  this  bright  Beacon,  which  indeed 
"  is  fet  on  Fire  of  Heaven,  fhall 
"  pafs  on  through  the  peacefull 
"  Studdies,  furmounted  Adverlities, 
"  and  vi6lorious  Agonies  of  Life, 
"  ever  looking  fteadfaftlie  up  !  " 

Alle  this,  and  much  more,  as 
tedious  to  heare  as  to  write,  did  I 
liften  to,  firfte  with  flagging  Atten- 
tion, next  with  concealed  Weari- 
neffe  ;  —  and    as    Wearineffe,    if    in- 


dulged, 


35 


1643. 


3^ 


i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

dulged,  never  is  long  concealed,  it 
foe  chanced,  by  Ill-luck,  that  Mr. 
Milton^  fuddainlie  turning  his  Eyes 
from  Heaven  upon  poor  me,  caughte, 
I  can  fcarcelie  expreffe  how  flighte, 
an  Indication  of  Difcomforte  in  my 
Face  :    and  inftantlie  a  Cloud  crofTed 


his 


owne 


though 


as    thin    as    that 


through  w^hich  the  Sun  fliines  while 
it  floats  over  him.  Oh,  'twas  not 
of  a  Moment !  and  yet  in  that  Moment 
we  feemed  cache  to  have  feene  the 
other,  though  but  at  a  Glance,  under 
new  Circumftances  :  —  as  though  two 
Perfons  at  a  Mafquerade  had  juft 
removed  their  Mafques  and  put 
them  on  agayn.  This  gave  me  my 
feconde  Pang:  —  I  felt  I  had  given 
him  Pa3'n  ;  and  though  he  made  as 
though  he  forgot  it  dire6lly,  and  I 
tooke  Payns  to  make  him  forget  it, 
I  coulde  never  be  quite  fure  whether 
he  had. 

My 


of  Mary  Powell. 


*  *  «  *  My  Spiritts  were  Ibe 
dafhed  by  this,  and  by  learning  his 
Af>'e  to  be  foe  much  more  than  I 
had  deemed  it,  (for  he  is  thirty-five  ! 
who  coulde  have  thoughte  it  ?)  that 
I  had,  thenceforthe,  the  Aire  of 
being  much  more  difcreete  and  pen- 
five  than  belongeth  to  my  Nature  ; 
whereby  he  was,  perhaps,  well 
pleafed.  As  I  became  more  grave 
he  became  more  gay ;  foe  that  we 
met  cache  other,  as  it  were,  half- 
way, and  became  righte  pleafant. 
If  his  Countenance  were  comel}^ 
before,  it  is  quite  heavenlie  now ; 
and  yet  I  qucftion  whether  my 
Love  increafeth  as  rapidlie  as  my 
Feare.  Surelie  my  FoU}^  will  prove 
as  diftaftefull  to  him,  as  his  over- 
much Wifdom  to  me.  The  Dread 
of  it  hath  alarmed  me  alreadie. 
What  has  become,  even  now,  of 
alle     my    gay    Vifions    of    Marriage, 

and 


37 


1643. 


38 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


May  24th. 


and  London,  and  the  Play-houfes, 
and  the  Towre?  The}'  have  faded 
away  thus  earHe,  and  in  their  Place 
comes  a  Foreboding  of  I  can  fcarce 
fay  what.  I  am  as  if  a  Child, 
receiving  from  fome  olde  Fairy  the 
Gift  of  what  feemed  a  fayre  Doll's 
Houfe,  fliould  haftilie  open  the 
Doore  thereof,  and  ftarte  back  at 
beholding  nought  within  but  a  huge 
Cavern,  deepe,  high,  and  vafte ;  in 
parte  glittering  with  glorious  Chryf- 
tals,  and  the  Reft  hidden  in  obfcure 
DarknefTe. 

Deare  Rofe  came  this  Morning. 
I  flew  forthe  to  welcome  her,  and 
as  I  drew  near,  fhe  lookt  upon  me 
with  fuch  a  Kind  of  Awe  as  that  I 
could  not  forbeare  laughing.  Mr. 
Milton  having  flept  at  Sheep/cote, 
had  made  her  privy  to  our  Engage- 
ment ;   for  indeede,  he  and  Mr.  Agnew 

are 


of  Mary  Powell. 


are  fuch  Friends,  he  will  keep  No- 
thing from  him.  Thus  Rofe  heares 
it  before  my  owne  Mother,  which 
fhoulde  not  be.  When  we  had 
entered  my  Chamber,  fhe  embraced 
me  once  and  agayn,  and  feemed  to 
think  foe  much  of  my  uncommon 
Fortune,  that  I  beganne  to  think 
more  of  it  myfelfe.  To  heare  her 
talke  of  Mr.  Milton  one  would  have 
fuppofed  her  more  in  Love  with  him 
than  I.  Like  a  Bookworm  as  fhe  is, 
ftie  fell  to  prayfing  his  Compofures. 
"  Oh,  the  leafle  I  care  for  in  him  is 
"  his  Verfing,"  quoth  I  5  and  from 
that  Moment  a  Spiritt  of  Mifchief 
tooke  Poffeffion  of  me,  to  do  a 
thoufand  heedleffe,  ridiculous  Things 
throughoute  the  Day,  to  fhew  Rofe 
how  little  I  fet  b}^  the  Opinion  of  foe 
wife  a  Man.  Once  or  twice  Mr. 
Milton  lookt  earneftlie  and  queftion- 
inglie  at  me,  but  I  heeded  him  not. 

Difcourfe 


39 

1643- 


40 


i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

it  *  *  •^  Difcourse  at  Table  graver 
and  lels  plealant,  methoughte,  than 
heretofore.  Mr.  Bujire  having  dropt 
in,  v^as  avifed  to  aik  Mr.  Milton  why, 
having  had  an  univerlity  Education, 
he  had  not  entered  the  Church.  He 
repHed,  drylie  enough,  becaufe  he 
woulde  not  fubfcribe  himfelfe  Slave 
to  anie  Formularies  of  Men's  mak- 
ing. I  faw  Father  bite  his  Lip  ; 
and  Roger  Agnew  mildly  obferved, 
he  thought  him  wrong  ;  for  that  it 
was  not  for  an  Individual  to  make 
Rules  for  another  Individual,  but 
yet  that  the  generall  Voice  of  the 
Wife  and  Good,  removed  from  the 
pettie  Prejudices  of  private  Feeling, 
mighte  pronounce  authoritativelie 
wherein  an  Individual  was  righte 
or  wrong,  and  frame  Laws  to  keepe 
him  in  the  righte  Path.  Mr.  Milton 
replyed,  that  manie  Fallibles  could 
no  more  make  up  an  Infallible  than 

manie 


of  Mary  Powell. 


manie  Finites  could  make  an  Infinite. 
Mr.  Agnew  rejoyned,  that  ne'erthe- 
leffe,  an  Individual  who  oppofed 
himfelfe  agaynll  the  generall  Cur- 
rent of  the  Wife  and  Good,  was, 
leafte  of  alle,  likelie  to  be  in  the 
Right  ;  and  that  the  Limitations  of 
human  Intelle6l  which  made  the 
Judgment  of  manie  wife  Men  liable 
to  Question,  certainlie  made  the 
Judgment  of  anie  wife  Man,  felf- 
dependent,  more  queftionable  ftill. 
Mr.  Milton  fhortlie  replied  that  there 
were  Particulars  in  the  required 
Oaths  which  made  him  unable  to 
take  them  without  Perjurie.  i\nd 
foe,  an  End  :  but  'twas  worth  a 
World  to  fee  Rofe  looking  foe 
anxioullie  from  the  one  Speaker  to 
the  other,  defirous  that  each  fhoulde 
be  vi6torious  ;  and  I  was  sorry  that 
it  lafted  not  a  little  longer. 

As  Rofe  and  I  tooke  our  Way  to 

the 


41 

1643- 


42 


i643- 


jSIaideii  &  Married  Life 

the  Summer-houfe;  fhe  put  her  Arm 
round  me,  laying,  "  How  charming 
"  is  divine  Philolbphie  !  "  I  coulde 
not  helpe  afking  if  fhe  did  not 
meane  how  charming  was  the  Phi- 
lofophie  of  one  particular  Divine  ? 
Soe  then  flie  difcourfed  with  me  of 
Things  more  feemhe  for  Women 
than  Philofophie  or  Divinitie  either. 
OnHe,  when  Mr.  Agnezu  and  Mr. 
Milton  joyned  us,  fhe  woulde  afke 
them  to  repeat  one  Piece  of  Poetry 
after  another,  beginning  with  Ca- 
rew's — 

"  He  who  loves  a  rojie  Checker 
Or  a  coral  Lip  admires, — " 

And    crying    at    the    End    of   cache, 

"  Is    not    that    lovely  ?      Is    not    that 

"  divine  ?  "      I   franklie   fayd    I    liked 

none    of    them    foe    much    as    fome 

Mr.  Agnew  had   recited,  concluding 

with — 

"  Mortals 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  Mortals  that  would  follow  me, 
Love  Virtue :  fJie  alone  is  free P 

Whereon  Mr.  Milton  furprifed  me 
with  a  fuddeii  Kifs,  to  the  immo- 
derate Mirthe  of  Rofe,  who  fayd  I 
coulde  not  have  looked  more  dif- 
compofed  had  he  pretended  he  was 
the  Author  of  thofe  Verfes.  I  after- 
wards found  he  was ;  but  I  think 
ihe  laught  more  than  there  was 
neede. 

We  have  ever  been  confidered  a 
fufficientlie  religious  Familie  :  that 
is,  we  goe  regularly  to  Church 
on  Sabbaths  and  Prayer-dayes,  and 
keepe  alle  the  Fafts  and  Feftivalles. 
But  Mr.  Milton's  Devotion  hath  at- 
tayned  a  Pitch  I  can  neither  imitate 
nor  even  comprehende.  The  fpi- 
rituall  World  feemeth  to  him  not 
onlie  reall,  but  I  may  almofte  fay 
vifible.     For  Inftance,  he  tolde  Rofe, 

it 


43 


1643. 


44 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  it  appears,  that  on  Tuefday  Nighte, 
(that  is  the  fame  Evening  I  had 
promifccl  to  be  his,)  as  he  went 
homewards   to   his  Farm-lodging,  he 


fancied  the  Angels  whifperinge  in 
his  Eares,  and  finging  over  his 
Head,  and  that  inftead  of  going  to 
his  Bed  like  a  reafonable  Being,  he 
lay  down  on  the  Grafs,  and  •gazed 
on  the  fweete,  pale  Moon  till  fhe 
fett,  and  then  on  the  bright  Starres 
till  he  feemed  to  fee  them  moving 
in  a  flowe,  folemn  Dance,  to  the 
Words,  '''■  How  glojHoiis  is  our  Godl^'' 
And  alle  about  him,  he  faid,  he 
knew,  tho'  he  coulde  not  fee  them, 
were  fpirituall  Beings  repairing  the 
Ravages  of  the  Day  on  the  Flowers, 
amonge  the  Trees,  and  Graffe,  and 
Hedofes  :  and  he  believed  'twas  onlie 
the  Filme  that  originall  Sin  had 
fpread  over  his  Eyes,  that  prevented 
his  feeing  them.     I  am  thankful  for 

this 


of  Mary  Powell. 


this  fame  Filme, — I  cannot  abide 
Fairies,  and  Witches,  and  Ghofts — 
ugh  !  I  fliudder  even  to  write  of 
them  ;  and  were  it  onlie  of  the 
more  harmleffe  Sort,  one  woulde 
nev^er  have  the  Comforte  of  think- 
inge  to  be  alone.  I  feare  Church- 
yardes  and  dark  Corners  of  •  alle 
Kinds  ;  more  efpeciallie  Spiritts  ; 
and  there  is  onlie  one  I  would  even 
wifh  to  fee  at  my  braveft,  when 
deepe  Love  cafteth  out  Feare  ;  and 
that  is  of  Sifter  Anne,  whome  I 
never  affociate  with  the  Worme  and 
Winding-fheete.  Oh  no  !  I  think 
JJie,  at  leafte,  dwells  amonge  the 
Starrcs,  having  fprung  llraite  up 
into  Lighte  and  Blille  the  Moment 
fhe  put  off  Mortalitic  ;  and  if  fhe, 
why  not  others }  Are  Adam  and 
Abraham  alle  these  Yeares  in  the 
unconfcious  Tomb  ?  Theire  Bodies, 
but  furelie    not    their    Spiritts  ?    else, 

why 


45 


1643 


46  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  why  dothe  Chriji  fpeak  of  Lazarus 
lying  in  Abraham's  Bofom,  while 
the  Brothers  of  Dives  are  yet  riot- 
oiiflie  living  ?  Yet  what  becomes 
of  the  Daye  of  generall  Judgment, 
if  fome  be  thus  pre-judged  ?  I  muft 
alke  Mr.  Miltoji, — yes,  I  thinke  I 
can  finde  it  in  my  Heart  to  afke  him 
about  this  in  fome  folemn,  ftille 
Hour,  and  perhaps  he  will  fett  at 
Reft  manic  Doubts  and  Mifgivings 
that  at  fundrie  Times  trouble  me  ; 
being-  foe  wife  a  Man. 

Bedtime. 

*  *  *  *  Glad  to  fteale  away 
from  the  noifie  Companie  in  the 
Supper-roome,  (comprifing  fome  of 
Father''s  Fellow-magiftrates,)  I  went 
down  with  Robin  and  Kate  to  the 
Fifh-ponds  ;  it  was  fcarce  Sunfet  : 
and  there,  while  we  threw  Crumbs 
to  the  Fifli  and  watched  them  come 

to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


to  the  Surface,  were  followed,  or 
ever  we  were  aware,  by  Mr.  Milton^ 
who  fate  down  on  the  ftone  Seat, 
drew  Robin  between  his  Knees, 
ftroked  his  Haire,  and  afkt  what 
we  were  talking  about.  Robin  fayd 
I  had  beene  telling  them  a  fairie 
Story ;  and  Mr.  Milton  obferved  that 
was  an  infinite  Improvement  on  the 
jangling,  puzzle-headed  Prating  of 
Country  Juftices,  and  wilhed  I 
woulde  tell  it  agayn.  But  I  was 
afrayd.  But  Robin  had  no  Feares  ; 
foe  tolde  the  Tale  roundlie  ;  onlie 
he  forgot  the  End.  Soe  he  found 
his  Way  backe  to  the  Middle,  and 
feemed  likelie  to  make  it  laft  alle 
Night  ;  onlie  Mr.  Milton  fayd  he 
feemed  to  have  got  into  the  Laby- 
rinth of  Crete,  and  he  muft  for 
Pitie's  Sake  give  him  the  Clew. 
Soe  he  finifhcd  Robins  Story,  and 
then    tolde    another,    a    molt    lovelie 

one. 


47 


1643. 


48 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

one,  of  Ladies,  and  Princes,  and 
Enchanters,  and  a  brazen  Horfe, 
and  he  fayd  the  End  of  that  Tale 
had  been  cut  off  too,  by  Reafon  the 
Writer  had  died  before  he  finifhed 
it.  But  Robin  cryed,  "  Oh  !  finifh 
"  this  too,"  and  hugged  and  kift 
him  ;  foe  he  did  ;  and  methoughte 
the  End  was  better  than  the  Be- 
ginninge.  Then  he  fayd,  "  Now, 
"  fweet  Afoll^  yow.  have  onHe  fpoken 
"  this  Hour  paft,  by  your  Eyes  ; 
"  and  we  muft  heare  your  pleafant 
"  Voice."  "  An  Hour  ? "  cries 
Robin.  '"  Where  are  all  the  red 
•"  Clouds  gone,  then  ? "  quoth  Mr. 
Milton,  "  and  what  Bulinefs  hathe 
"  the  Moon  yonder  ?  "  "  Then  we 
"  muft  go  Indoors,"  quoth  I.  But 
they  cried  "  No,"  and  Robin  helde 
me  faft,  and  Mr.  Milton  fayd  I  might 
know  even  by  the  diftant  Sounds 
of  ill-governed    Merriment    that    we 

were 


of  Mary  Powell. 


were  winding  up  the  Week's  Ac- 
counts of  Joy  and  Care  more  con- 
liftentlie  where  we  were  than  we 
coulde  doe  in  the  Houfe.  And 
indeede  juft  then  I  hearde  my  Fa- 
ther's Voice  fwelling  a  noilie  Chorus ; 
and  hoping  Mr.  Milfoil  did  not  dil- 
tinguifh  it,  I  afkt  him  if  he  loved 
Mufick.  He  anfwered,  foe  much 
that  it  was  Miferie  for  him  to  hear 
anie  that  was  not  of  the  befte.  I 
fecretlie  refolved  he  fhould  never 
heare  mine.  He  added,  he  was 
come  of  a  muficalle  Familie,  and 
that  his  Father  not  onlie  fang  well, 
but  played  finely  on  the  Viol  and 
Organ.  Then  he  fpake  of  the  fvveet 
Mufick  in  Italy,  untill  I  longed  to 
be  there  ;  but  I  tolde  him  Nothing 
in  its  Way  ever  pleafed  me  more 
than  to  hearc  the  Chorifters  of 
Magdalen  College  ufher  in  May  Day 
by  chaunting  a  Hymn  at  the  Top  of 
E  the 


49 

1643- 


so 


1643. 


Maidc7i  &  Married  Life 

the  Church  Towre.  Difcourfinof  of 
this  and  that,  we  thus  fate  a  good 
While  ere  we  returned  to  the  Houfe. 


45-  *  *  *  Coming  out  of  Church, 
he  woulde  fhun  the  common  Field, 
where  the  Villagery  led  up  theire 
Sports,  faying,  he  deemed  Qiioit- 
playing  and  the  like  to  be  unfuitable 
Recreations  on  a  Daye  w^hereupon 
the  Lord  had  reftri6led  us  from 
fpeakinge  our  own  Words,  and 
thinking  our  own  (that  is,  fecular) 
Thoughts  :  and  that  he  believed  the 
Law  of  God  in  this  Particular  woulde 
foone  be  the  Law  of  the  Land,  for 
Parliament  woulde  fhortlie  put  down 
Sunday  Sports.  I  afkt,  "  What,  the 
''^King's  Parliament  at  Oxford?'''' 
He  anfwered,  "  No  ;  the  CoiLiitrfs 
"  Parliament  at  Wefiminfiery  I  fayd, 
I  was  forrie,  for  manie  poore  hard- 
working Men  had  no  other  Holiday. 

He 


of  Mary  Powell. 


He  fayd,  another  Holiday  woulde  be 
o-iven  them  :  and  that  whether  or 
no,  we  mull;  not  connive  at  Evil, 
which  we  doe  in  permitting  an  holy 
Daye  to  fink  into  a  Holiday.  I  fayd, 
but  was  it  not  the  Jezui/Ji  Law  which 
had  made  fuch  Reftriftions  ?  He 
fayd,  yes,  but  that  Chrijl  came  not 
to  deflroy  the  moral  Law,  of  which 
Sabbath-keeping  was  a  Part,  and 
that  even  its  naturall  Fitneffe  for  the 
bodily  Welfare  of  Man  and  Beafl 
was  fuch  as  no  wife  Legiflator  would 
abolifh  or  abufe  it,  even  had  he  no 
Confideration  for  our  fpiritual  and 
immortal  Part  :  and  that  'twas  a 
well-known  Fa(5l  that  Beafhs  of  Bur- 
then, which  had  not  one  Daye  of 
Reft  in  feven,  did  leffe  Worke  in 
the  End.  As  for  oure  Soules,  he 
fayd,  they  required  theire  fpiritual 
Meales  as  much  as  our  Bodies  re- 
quired    thcires  ;     and     even     poore, 

ruflicall 


51 
1643- 


52 


i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


Monday. 


ruflicall  Clownes  who  coulde  not 
reade,  mighte  nourifh  their  better 
Parts  by  an  holie  Paufe,  and  by 
looking  within  them,  and  around 
them,  and  above  them.  I  felt  in- 
clined to  tell  him  that  long  Sermons 
alwaies  feemed  to  make  me  love  God 
lefs  infleade  of  more,  but  woulde 
not,  fearing  he  mighte  take  it  that 
I  meant  he  had  been  giving  me  one. 

Mother  hath  returned  !  The  Mo- 
ment I  hearde  her  Voice  I  fell  to 
trembling.  At  the  fame  Moment 
I  hearde  Robiii  cry,  "  Oh,  Mother^  I 
"  have  broken  the  greene  Beaker  !  " 
which  betraied  Apprehenfion  in  an- 
other Quarter.  However,  fhe  quite 
mildlie  replied,  "  Ah,  I  knew  the 
"  Handle  was  loofe,"  and  then  kift 
me  with  foe  great  Afre6lion  that 
I  felt  quite  eafie.  She  had  beene 
withhelde    by    a    troublefome    Cold 

from 


of  Mary  Powell.  53 


from  returning  at  the  appointed  1643. 
Time,  and  cared  not  to  write.  'Twas 
juft  Supper-time,  and  there  wxre  the 
Children  to  kifs  and  to  give  theire 
Bread  and  jNIilk,  and  BilPs  Letter 
to  reade  ;  foe  that  Nothing  particular 
was  fayd  till  the  younger  Ones  were 
gone  to  Bed,  and  Father  and  Mother 
were  taking  fome  Wine  and  Toaft. 
Then  fays  Father,  "Well,  Wife, 
"  have  you  got  the  five  hundred 
"  Pounds  ?  "  •  "  No,"  fhe  anfwers, 
rather  carelefllie.  "  I  tolde  you  how 
" 'twoulde  be,"  fays  Father;  "you 
"  mighte  as  well  have  ftayed  at 
"  Home."  "  Really,  Mr.  Powell^' 
fays  Mother,  "  foe  feldom  as  I  ftir 
"  from  my  owne  Chimney-corner, 
"  you  neede  not  to  grudge  me,  I 
"  think,  a  few  Dayes  among  our 
"  mutuall  Relatives."  "  I  fhall  goe 
"to  Gaol,"  fays  Father.  "  Non- 
"fenfc,"     fays     Mother;     "to     Gaol 

" indeed  !  " 


54 


Maidoi  &  Married  Life 


1643. 


"  indeed  !  "  "  Well,  then,  who  is 
to  keepe  me  from  it  ? "  fays  Fa- 
ther^ laughing.  "  I  will  anfwer  for 
it,  Mr.  Milton  will  wait  a  little 
"  longer  for  his  Money,"  fays  Mo- 
ther, "  he  is  an  honourable  Man, 
I  fuppofe."  "  I  wifh  he  may 
"  thinke  me  one,"  fays  Father ; 
"  and  as  to  a  little  longer,  what  is 
"the  soode  of  waitinjy  for  what 
"  is  as  unlikelie  to  come  eventuallie 


as    now 


"  You  muft  anfwer 
that  for  yourfelfe,"  fays  Mother, 
looking  wearie  :  "  I  have  done  what 
I  can,  and  can  doe  no  more." 
"Well,  then,  'tis  lucky  Matters 
"  Hand  as  they  do,"  fays  Father. 
"  Mr.  Milton  has  been  much  here  in 
"  your  Abfence,  my  Dear,  and  has 
■'taken  a  Liking  to  our  Moll;  foe, 
believing  him,  as  you  fay,  to  be 
"  an  honourable  Man,  I  have  pro- 
"  mifed  he  fhall   have  her."     "  Non- 

"  fenfe," 


of  Mary  Powell. 


55 


"  fenfe,"  cries  Mother,  turning  red 
and  then  pale.  "  Never  farther 
"  from  Nonfenfe,"  fays  Father,  "  for 
"  'tis  to  be,  and  by  the  Ende  of  the 
"  Month  too."  "  You  are  banterino- 
"  me,  Mr.  Powell^''  fays  Mother. 
"  How  can  3'ou  fuppofe  foe,  my 
"  Deare  ?  "  fays  Father,  "  you  doe 
"me  Injuftice."  "Why,  Moll!'' 
cries  Mother,  turning  fharplie  to- 
wards me,  as  I  fate  mute  and  fear- 
fulle,  "  what  is  alle  this,  Child  ? 
"  You  cannot,  you  dare  not  think 
"  of  wedding  this  round-headed 
"  Puritan."  "  Not  round-headed," 
fayd  I,  trembling  ;  "  his  Plaire  is  as 
"  long  and  curled  as  mine."  "  Don't 
"  bandy  Words  with  me,  Girl,"  fays 
Mother,  paflionatelie,  "  fee  how  unfit 
you  arc  to   have   a  Iloufe   of  your 


u 


u 


ownc,  who  cannot  be  left  in 
"  Charge  of  your  Father  s  for  a 
"  Fortnighte,     without      falling     into 

"  Mifchiefe  ! " 


1643- 


56 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

'  Mifchiefe  !  "     "I   won't  have  Mo// 
'  chidden  in  that  Way,"  fays  Father^ 
'  fhe   has   fallen   into   noe   Mifchiefe, 
'  and     has     beene     a    difcreete    and 
'dutifuU     Child."       "Then     it     has 
'  beene   alle   your   doing,"   fays   Mo- 
ther^   "  and     you    have     forced     the 
'Child    into    this    Match."       "Noe 
'  Forcing    w^hatever,"     fays    Father^ 
'  they   like    one    another,   and    I    am 
'  very  glad  of  it,  for   it   happens   to 
'  be     very     convenient."       "  Conve- 
'  nient,     indeed,"     repeats      Mother, 
and     falls     a-weeping.       Thereon     I 
muft  needs  weepe  too,  but  flie  fays, 
"  Begone  to  Bed  ;  there  is  noe  Neede 
"  that   you    flioulde    fit   by    to    heare 
"  your    owne    Fatlicr    confeffe    what 
"  a  Fool  he  has  beene." 

To  my  Bedroom  I  have  come, 
but  cannot  yet  feek  my  Bed  ;  the 
more  as  I  ftill  heare  theire  Voices 
in  Contention  below. 

This 


of  Mary  Powell. 


This  Morninge's  Breakfafte  was 
mofte  uncomfortable,  I  feeling  like 
a  checkt  Child,  fcarce  minding  to 
looke  up  or  to  eat.  Mother^  with 
E3^es  red  and  fwollen,  fcarce  fpeak- 
ing  fave  to  the  Children  ;  Father 
dire6ting  his  Difcourfe  chieflie  to 
Dick,  concerning  Farm  Matters  and 
the  Rangeriliip  of  Shotover,  tho' 
'twas  ealie  to  fee  his  Mind  was  not 
with  them.  Soe  foone  as  alle  had 
difperfed  to  theire  cuftomed  Tafkes, 
and  I  was  loitering  at  the  Window, 
Father  calls  aloud  to  me  from  his 
Studdy.  Thither  I  go,  and  find  him 
and  Mother,  fhe  fitting  with  her  Back 
to  both.  "  Moll,'''  fays  Father,  with 
great  Determination,  "  you  have  ac- 
"  cepted  i\Ir.  Milton  to  pleafe  your- 
"  felf,  you  will  marry  him  out  of 
"  Hand  to  pleafe  me."  "  Spare  me, 
"  fpare  me,  ]Mr.  Pozuell^'^  interrupts 
Mother,    "  if   the    Engagement    may 

"  not 


57 
1643. 

Tuesday. 


58 


1643- 


J^Iaidcn  &  Married  Life 

"  not  be  broken  off,  at  the  leaft 
"  precipitate     it     not    with     this     in- 

"  decent  Halle.     Poftpone  it  till " 

"  Till  when  ?  "  %s  FatJicr.  "  Till 
''  the  Child  is  olde  enough  to  know 
"  her  owne  Mind."  "  That  is,  to 
"  put  off  an  honourable  Man  on 
"  falfe  Pretences,"  fays  Father^  "  fhe 
"  is  olde  enough  to  know  it  alreadie. 
"  Speake,  AIoll^  are  you  of  your 
"  Mother'' s  Mind  to  give  up  Mr. 
"  Milto7i  altogether  ?  "  I  trembled, 
but  fayd,  "No."  "Then,  as  his 
"  Time  is  precious,  and  he  knows 
"  not  when  he  may  leave  his  Home 
"  agayn,  I  lave  you  the  Trouble, 
"  Child,  of  naming  a  Day,  for  it 
"  Ihall  be  the  Monday  before  Whit- 
'"''  funtide.^''  Thereat  Mother  ga^•e 
a  Kind  of  Groan  ;  but  as  for  me, 
I  had  like  to  have  fallen  on  the 
Ground,  for  I  had  had  noe  Thought 
of  fuche  Hafte.     "  See  what  you  are 

"  doing. 


of  Mary  Powell.  59 


"  doing,  Mr.  Pozvell,^''  fays  Mother,  1643. 
compaffionating  me,  and  raifing  me 
up,  though  fomewhat  roughlie  ; 
"  I  prophecie  Evil  of  this  Match." 
"  Prophets  of  Evil  are  fure  to  find 
"  Lifteners,"  fays  Father,  "  but'  I  am 
"  not  one  of  them  ; "  and  foe  left 
the  Room.  Thereon  my  Mother, 
who  alwaies  feares  him  when  he 
has  a  Fit  of  Determination,  loofed 
the  Bounds  of  her  Paffion,  and  chid 
me  fo  unkindlie,  that,  humbled  and 
mortified,  I  was  glad  to  feeke  my 
Chamber. 


*  *  *  *  Entering  the  Dining- 
room,  however,  I  uttered  a  Shriek 
on  feeing  Father  fallen  back  in  his 
Chair,  as  though  in  a  Fit,  like  unto 
that  which  terrified  us  a  Year  ago  ; 
and  Mother  hearing  me  call  out,  ran 
in,  loofed  his  Collar,  and  foone 
broughte  him  to  himfelfe,  tho'  not 
without    much   Alarm    to    alle.      He 

made 


6o 


1643. 


Alaiden  &  Married  Life 

made  light  of  it  himfelfe,  and  fayd 
'twas  merelie  a  fuddain  Rufh  of 
Blood  to  the  Head,  and  woulde  not 
be  diffuaded  from  going  out  ;  but 
Mother  was  playnly  fmote  at  the 
Heart,  and  having  lookt  after  him 
with  fome  Anxietie,  exclaimed,  "  I 
"  fhall  neither  meddle  nor  make 
"  more  in  this  Bufineffe :  your  Fa- 
"  thcr''s  fuddain  Seizures  fhall  neyer 
"  be  layd  at  m}^  Doore  ; "  and  foe 
left  me,  till  we  met  at  Dinner. 
After  the  Cloth  was  drawne,  enters 
Mr.  Milton^  who  goes .  up  to  Mother^ 
and  with  Gracefulneffe  kiffes  her 
Hand  ;  but  fhe  withdrewe  it  pet- 
tifhly,  and  tooke  up  her  Sewing,  on 
the  which  he  lookt  at  her  wonder- 
ingly,  and  then  at  me ;  then  at  her 
agayne,  as  though  he  woulde  reade 
her  w^hole  Chara6ler  in  her  Face  ; 
which  having  feemed  to  doe,  and  to 
write  the  fame  in  fome  private  Page 

of 


of  Mary  Powell. 


of  his  Heart,  he  never  troubled  her 
or  himfelf  with  further  Comment, 
but  tooke  up  Matters  juft  where  he 
had  left  them  laft.  Ere  we  parted 
we  had  fome  private  Conference 
touching  our  Marriage,  for  haften- 
ing  which  he  had  foe  much  to  fay 
that  I  coulde  not  long  contend  with 
him,  efpeciallie  as  I  founde  he  had 
plainlie  made  out  that  Mother  loved 
him  not. 

Houfe  full  of  Companie,  leaving 
noe  time  to  write  nor  think.  Mo- 
ther fayth,  tho'  flie  cannot  forbode 
an  happie  Marriage,  fhe  will  provide 
for  a  merrie  Wedding,  and  hathe 
ofrowne  more  than  commonlie  tender 
to  me,  and  given  me  fome  Trinkets, 
a  Piece  of  fine  Holland  Cloth,  and 
enoughe  of  green  Sattm  for  a  Gown, 
that  will  ftand  on  End  with  its  owne 
Richneffe.     She  hathe  me  conftantlie 

with 


6i 


1643. 


Wednesday. 


62 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  "^^^^  ^"^^  ^^"^  ^^^  Kitchen,  Paflrie,  and 
Store-room,  telling  me  'tis  needfulle 
I  llioulde  improve  in  Houfewiferie, 
feeing  I  fliall  foe  foone  have  a  Home 
of  my  owne. 

But  I  think  Mother  knows  not, 
and  I  am  afeard  to  tell  her,  that 
Mr.  Milton  hath  no  Houfe  of  his 
owne  to  carry  me  to,  but  onlie 
Lodgings,  which  have  well  fuited 
his  Bachelor  State,  but  may  not, 
'tis  likelie,  befeeme  a  Lady  to  live 
in.  He  deems  fo  himfelf,  and  fayeth 
we  will  look  out  for  an  hired  Houfe 
tos:ether,  at  our  Leifure.  Alle  this 
he  hath  fayd  to  me  in  an  Under- 
tone, in  Mother^ s  Prefence,  fhe  few- 
ing  at  the  Table  and  we  fitting  in  the 
Window;  and  'tis  difficult  to  tell  how 
much  fhe  hears,  for  fhe  will  alke 
no  Qiieftions,  and  make  noe  Com- 
ments, onlie  compreffes  her  Lips, 
which  makes  me  think  fhe  knows. 

The 


of  Mary  Powell. 


The  Children  are  in  turbulent 
Spiritts  ;  but  Robin  hath  done  nought 
but  mope  and  make  Moan  lince  he 
learnt  he  muft  foe  foone  lofe  me. 
A  Thought  hath  ftruck  me,  —  Mr. 
Milton  educates  his  Sifter's  Sons. ; 
two  Lads  of  about  Robiiz's  Age. 
What  if  he  woulde  confent  to  take 
my  Brother  under  his  Charge  ?  per- 
haps Father  would  be  willing. 

Laft  Vifitt  to  Sheep/cote^  —  at  leafte, 
as  Mary  Powell ;  but  kind  Rofe  and 
Roe'er  Asinew  will  orive  us  the  Ufe  of 
it  for  a  Week  on  our  Marriage,  and 
fpcnd  the  Time  with  dear  Father 
and  Mother^  who  will  neede  their 
Kindneffe.  Rofe  and  I  walked  long 
aboute  the  Garden,  her  Arm  round 
my  Neck  ;  and  ftie  was  avifed  to  fay, 

"  Cloth  of  Frieze^  be  not  too  bold, 
Thd*  thoic  be  matcht  with  Cloth  of 


Gold—'' 


And 


^Z 


1643- 


Saturday. 


64  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  And  then  craved  my  Pardon  for  foe 
unmannerl}^  a  Rhyme,  which  in- 
deede,  methoughte,  needed  an  Ex- 
cufe,  but  expreft  a  Feare  that  I 
knew  not  (what  fhe  called)  my  high 
Defhiny,  and  prayed  me  not  to  trifle 
with  Mr.  Miltoii^s  Feelings  nor  in 
his  Sighte,  as  I  had  done  the  Daye 
fhe  dined  at  Fore/2  Hill.  I  laught, 
and  fayd,  he  muft  take  me  as  he 
found  me  :  he  was  going  to  marry 
Mary  Powell,  not  the  Wife  Widow 
of  Tekoah.  Rofe  lookt  wiftfullie,  but 
I  bade  her  take  Heart,  for  I  doubted 
not  we  fhoulde  content  cache  the 
other  ;  and  for  the  Refl:,  her  Advice 
flioulde  not  be  forgotten.  Thereat, 
fhe  was  pacyfied. 

May  22nd.  Alle  Buftle  and  Confulion, — flay- 
ing of  Poultrie,  making  of  Paftrie, 
etc.  People  coming  and  going,  preft 
to   dine   and   to   fup,  and  refufe,  and 

then 


of  Mary  Powell. 


then  ftay,  the  colde  Meats  and  Wines 
ever  on  the  Table  ;  and  in  the  Even- 
ing the  Rebecks  and  Recorders  fent 
for  that  we  may  dance  in  the  Hall. 
My  Spiritts  have  been  moll  un- 
equall  ;  and  this  Evening  I  was 
overtaken  with  a  fuddain  Faintneffe, 
fuch  as  I  never  but  once  before  ex- 
perienced. They  would  let  me 
dance  no  more  ;  and  I  was  quite 
tired  enoughe  to  be  glad  to  fit  aparte 
with  ISIr.  Milton  neare  the  Doore, 
with  the  Moon  fhining  on  us  5  untill 
at  length  he  drew^  me  out  into  the 
Garden.  He  fpake  of  Happineffe 
and  Home,  and  Hearts  knit  in  Love, 
and  of  heavenlie  Efpoufals,  and  of 
Man  being  the  Head  of  the  Woman, 
and  of  our  Lorcfs  Marriaofe  with  the 

CD 

Church,  and  of  white  Robes,  and 
the  Bridegroom  coming  in  Clouds 
of  Glory,  and  of  the  Voices  of 
finging  Men  and  finging  Women, 
F  and 


6s 


1643. 


66  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  and  eternall  Spring,  and  eternall 
BlilTe,  and  much  that  I  cannot  call 
to  Mind,  and  other-much  that  I 
coulde  not  comprehende,  but  which 
was  in  mine  Ears  as  the  Song'  of 
Birds,  or  Falling  of  Waters. 

May  23d.  Rofe  hath  come,  and  hath  kindlie 
offered  to  help  pack  the  Trunks, 
(which  are  to  be  fent  off  by  the 
Waggon  to  Londo7i,)  that  I  may 
have  the  more  Time  to  devote  to 
Afr.  Milton.  Nay,  but  he  will  foon 
have  all  my  Time  devoted  to  him- 
felf,  and  I  would  as  lief  fpend  what 
little  remains  in  mine  accuftomed 
Haunts,  after  mine  accuftomed  Fa- 
fhion.  I  had  purpofed  a  Ride  on 
Clover  this  Morning,  with  Robin ; 
but  the  poor  Boy  muff  I  trow  be 
difappointed. 

And     for    what  ?       Oh    me  ! 

I   have   hearde   fuch   a   long  Sermon 

on 


of  Mary  Powell. 


on  Marriage-duty  and  Service,  that 
I  am  faine  to  fit  down  and  weepe. 
But  no,  I  muft  not,  for  they  are 
waiting  for  me  in  the  Hall,  and  the 
Guefts  are  come  and  the  Mulick  is 
tuning,  and  my  Lookes  muft  not 
betray  me.  —  And  now  farewell, 
Jotirnall ;  or  Rofe,  who  firft  bade 
me  keepe  you  (little  deeming  after 
what  Faftiion),  will  not  pack  you 
up,  and  I  wmII  not  clofe  you  with  a 
heavie  Strayn.  Robin  is  calling  me 
beneath  the  Window,  —  Father  is 
fitting  in  the  Shade,  under  the  old 
Pear-tree,  feemingly  in  gay  Dif- 
courfe  with  Mr.  Milton.     To-morrow 


the    Village-bells    will    ring    for   the 
Marriage  of 

Mary  Powell. 


London, 


67 


1643. 


68 

i643- 


Maideji  &  Married  Life 

London^ 
Mr.  RiiffelPs^  Taylor, 

Bride's  Churchyard. 

Oh  me  !  is  this  my  new  Home  ? 
my  Heart  finkes  alreadie.  After 
the  fwete  frefh  Ayre  of  Sheepf- 
cote,  and  the  Cleanlinefs,  and  the 
Quiet,  and  the  pleafant  Smells, 
Sightes,  and  Soundes,  alle  whereof 
Mr.  Milton  enjoyed  to  the  Full  as 
keenlie  as  I,  faying  they  minded 
him  of  Paradife, — how  woulde  Rofe 
pitie  me,  could  fhe  view  me  in  this 
clofe  Chamber,  the  Floor  whereof 
of  dark,  uneven  Boards,  muft  have 
beene  layd,  methinks,  three  hundred 
Years  ago  ;  the  oaken  Pannells, 
utterlie  deftitute  of  Polifh,  and  with 
fundrie  Chinks ;  the  Bed  with  dull 
brown  Hangings,  lined  with  as  dull 
a  greene,  occupying  Half  the  Space  ; 

and 


of  Mary  Powell. 


and  Half  the  Remainder  being  filled 
with  duftie  Books,  whereof  there 
are  Store  alfoe  in  every  other  Place. 
This  Mirror,  I  flioiild  thinke,  be- 
longed to  faire  Rofainond.  And  this 
Arm-chair  to  King  Lear.  Over 
the  Chimnie  hangs  a  ruefull  Por- 
trait,—  maybe  of  Grothcs,  but  I 
fhoulde  fooner  deeme  it  of  fome 
Worthie  before  the  Flood.  Onlie 
one  Quarter  of  the  Cafement  will 
open,  and  that  upon  a  Profpe6l, 
oh  dolefulle  !  of  the  Churchyarde  ! 
Mr.  Milton  had  need  be  as  blythe  as 
he  was  all  the  Time  w^e  were  at 
Sheep/cote.,  or  I  fliall  be  buried  in 
that  fame  Churchyarde  within  the 
Twelvemonth.  'Tis  well  he  has 
ftepped  out  to  fee  a  Friend,  that 
I  may  in  his  Abfence  get  ridd  of 
this  Fit  of  the  Difmalls.  I  wifli 
it  may  be  the  laft.  What  would 
Mother   fay    to    his    bringing    me    to 

fuch 


1643- 


70 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

fuch    a   Home   as   this  ?      I  will   not 
think,     Soe    this    is   London !     How 
diverfe     from     the    "  towred     Citie " 
of    my    Hufband's    verfing  !     and    of 
his   Prole  too  ;    for   as   he   fpake,  by 
the   Way,    of   the    Diforders    of   our 
Time,  which  extend  even  into  eache 
domeflick   Circle,   he    fayd    that   alle 
muft,  for    a   While,  appear   confufed 
to    our    imperfeft    View,    juft    as    a 
mightie   Citie    unto    a   Stranger  who 
fhoulde    beholde    around    him    huge, 
unfinifhed  Fabrics,  the  Plan  whereof 
he  could  but  imperfe6llie  make  out, 
amid    the    Builders'    diforderlie    Ap- 
paratus ;    but    that,  from    afar,    we 
mighte      perceive     glorious     Refults 
from       party       Contentions,  —  Free- 
dom   fpringing   up    from   Oppreffion, 
Intelligence     fucceeding     Ignorance, 
Order     following    Diforder,    juft     as 
that    fame   Traveller   looking    at   the 
Citie  from  a  diftant  Height,  fhoulde 

beholde 


of  Mary  Powell.  71 


beholde  Towres  and  Spires  glifter-  1643. 
ing  with  Gold  and  Marble,  Streets 
fhretching  in  lellening  Perfpe6lives, 
and  Bridges  flinging  their  white 
Arches  over  noble  Rivers.  But 
what  of  this  faw  we  all  along  the 
Oxford  Road  ?  Firftlie,  there  was 
noe  commanding  Height  ;  fecond, 
there  was  the  Citie  obfcured  by  a 
drizzling  Rain  ;  the  Ways  were 
foul,  the  Faces  of  thofe  we  mett 
fpake  lefs  of  Pleafure  than  Bufinefs, 
and  Bells  were  tolling,  but  none 
ringing.  Mr.  Milioii's  Father,  a 
grey-haired,  kind  old  Man,  was 
here  to  give  us  Welcome  :  and  his 
firfte  Words  were,  "  Why,  yo/m, 
'•  thou  haft  ftolen  a  March  on  us. 
"  Soe  quickly,  too,  and  foe  fnug  ! 
"  but  fhe  is  faire  enoughe,  Man,  to 
"  excufe  thee,  Royalift  or  noe." 

And  foe,  taking  me  in   his  Arms, 
kift     me      franklie.  —  But     I     heare 

my 


72 


1643- 


Thursday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

my    Hufband's    Voice,    and    another 
with  it. 

'Twas  a  Mr.  Lawrence  whom  my 
Hufband  brought  Home  laft  Nighte 
to    fup  ;     and    the    Evening    paffed 
righte  pleafantlie,  with  News,  Jeftes, 
and  a  little  Mulicke.      Todaye  hath 
been  kindlie  devoted  by  Mr.  Milton 
to    fhewing    me    Sights: — and    oh! 
the    ftrange,    diverting    Cries    in    the 
Streets,     even     from     earlie    Dawn  ! 
"  New    Milk    and    Curds    from    the 
"  Dairie  !  " — "  Olde   Shoes   for  fome. 
"  Brooms  !  " — "  Anie    Kitchen-ftuffe, 
"have  you,  Maids?"  —  "Come  buy 
"  my  greene  Herbes  !  "  —  and  then  in 
the    Streets,   here   a   Man   preaching, 
there  another  juggling  :    here  a  Boy 
with     an    Ape,     there     a     Show    of 
Nineveh :    next   the   News    from    the 
North  ',    and  as  for  the  China  Shops 
and  Drapers   in  the  Strand,  and  the 

Cook's 


of  Mary  Powell.  73 


Cook's  Shops  in  WcJimmJIer,  with  1643. 
the  fmoking  Ribs  of  Beef  and  frefh 
Salads  fet  out  on  Tables  in  the  Street, 
and  Men  in  white  Aprons  crying 
out,  "  Calf's  Liver,  Tripe,  and  hot 
"Sheep's  Feet" — 'twas  enoughe  to 
make  One  untimelie  hungrie,  —  or 
take  One's  Appetite  away,  as  the 
Cafe  might  be.  Mr.  Milton  fhewed 
me  the  noble  Minfter,  with  King 
Harry  Seventh's  Chapel  adjoining  5 
and  pointed  out  the  old  Houfe  where 
Ben  yonfon  died.  Neare  the  Broade 
Sanflnarie,  we  fell  in  with  a  flighte, 
dark-complexioned  young  Gentle- 
man of  two  or  three  and  twenty, 
whome  my  Hufband  efpying  cryed, 
"  What,  Marvell !  "  the  other  comi- 
cally anfwering,  "What  Marvel.?" 
and  then,  handfomlie  faluting  me  and 
complimenting  Mr.  Milio7i^  much 
lighte  and  plcafant  Difcourfe  enfued  ; 
and  finding  we  were  aboute  to  take 

Boat, 


74 


1643- 


Friday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Boat,  he  volunteered  to  goe  with  us 
on  the  River.  After  manie  Hours' 
Exercife,  I  have  come  Home  fa- 
tigued, yet  w^ell  pleafed.  Mr.  Mar- 
veil  fups  with  us. 

I  wifh  I  could  note  down  a  Tithe 
of  the  pleafant  Things  that  were  fayd 
laft  Nighte.  Firft,  olde  Mr.  Milton 
having  ftept  out  with  his  Son, — 
I  called  in  Rachael,  the  younger  of 
Mr.  RiiJfeWs  Serving-maids,  (for  we 
have  none  of  our  owne  as  yet,  which 
tends  to  much  Difcomfiture,)  and, 
with  her  Aide,  I  dulled  the  Bookes 
and  fett  them  up  in  half  the  Space 
they  had  occupied  ;  then  cleared 
away  three  large  Bafketfuls  of  the 
abfoluteft  Rubbifh,  torn  Letters  and 
the  like,  and  fent  out  for  Flowers, 
(which  it  feemeth  Itrange  enoughe 
to  rne  to  buy^  which  gave  the 
Chamber  a  gayer  Aire,  and  foe  my 

Hufband 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Hufband  fayd  when  he  came  in, 
calling  me  the  fayreft  of  them  alle  ; 
and  then,  fitting  down  with  Gayety 
to  the  Organ,  drew  forth e  from  it 
heavenlie  Sounds.  Afterw^ards  Mr. 
Marvell  came  in,  and  they  difcourfed 
about  Italy^  and  Mr.  Milton  promifed 
his  Friend  fome  Letters  of  Intro- 
duction to  Jacopo  Gaddi^  Clementillo, 
and  others. — 

After  Supper,  they  wrote  Sen- 
tences, Definitions,  and  the  like, 
after  a  Fafhion  of  CatJierine  de  Me- 
dici, fome  of  which  I  have  layd  afide 
for  Rofe. 

— To-day  we  have  feene  St. 
PanPs  faire  Cathedral,  and  the 
School  where  Mr.  Milton  was  a 
Scholar  when  a  Boy  ;  thence,  to 
the  Fields  of  Fiiijbiiry ;  where 
are  Trees  and  Windmills  enow :  a 
Place     much     frequented     for    prac- 

tifing 


75 


1643. 


76 


1643. 


Saturday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

tifing    Archery     and     other     manlie 
Exercifes. 

Tho'  we  rife  betimes,  olde  Mr. 
Milton  is  earlier  fhille  ;  and  I  alwa3'S 
find  him  fitting  at  his  Table  befide 
the  Window  (by  Reafon  of  the 
Chamber  being  foe  dark,)  forting 
I  know  not  how  manie  Bundles  of 
Papers  tied  with  red  Tape ;  eache 
fo  like  the  other  that  I  marvel  how 
he  knows  them  aparte.  This  Morn- 
ing, I  found  the  poore  old  Gentle- 
man in  fad  Difhrefs  at  miffing^  jt 
Manufcript  Song  of  Mr.  Henry 
Lawes\  the  onlie  Copy  extant, 
which  he  perfuaded  himfelfe  that 
I  muft  have  fent  down  to  the  Kitchen 
Fire  Yefterday.  I  am  convinced 
I  difmifl  not  a  fingle  Paper  that  was 
not  torne  eache  Way,  as  being  ut- 
terlie  ufeleffe ;  but  as  the  unluckie 
Song    cannot    be    founde,    he    fighs 

and 


of  Mary  Powell. 


and  is  certayn  of  my  Delinquence, 
as  is  Hubert^  his  owne  Man  ;  or,  as 
he  more  frequentlie  calls  him,  his 
"odd  Man;" — and  an  odd  Man 
indeede  is  Mr.  Hubert,  readie  to 
addrefs  his  Mafher  or  Mafter's  Sonne 
on  the  mereft  Occafion,  without 
waiting  to  be  fpoken  to ;  tho'  he 
expe6teth  Others  to  treat  them  with 
far  more  Deference  than  he  himfelf 
payeth. 

—  Dead     tired,     this    Daye,    with 


fo  much  Exercife  ;  but  woulde  not 
fay  foe,  becaufe  my  Hufband  was 
thinking  to  pleafe  me  by  fhew- 
ing  me  foe  much.  Spiritts  flagging 
however.  Thefe  Londoji  Streets 
wearie  my  Feet.  We  have  been 
over  the  Houfe  in  Aldersgate  Street, 
the  Garden  whereof  difappointed 
me,  having  hearde  foe  much  of 
it  ;  but  'tis  far  better  than  none, 
and     the     Iloufe     is     large     enough 

for 


77 
1643. 


78 


1 643 


Sunday 
Even. 


JMaiden  &  Married  Life 

for  Mr.  Milton''s  Familie  and  m}^ 
Father  s  to  boote.  Thought  how 
pleafant  'twould  be  to  have  them 
alle  aboute  me  next  Chi^ijlmaj[[e ; 
but  that  holie  Time  is  noe  longfer 
kept  with  Joyfulhieffe  in  London. 
Ventured,  therefore,  to  expreffe  a 
Hope,  we  mighte  fpend  it  at  Forejl 
Hill;  but  Mr.  Milton  fayd  'twas 
unlikehe  he  fhould  be  able  to 
leave  Home  ;  and  afkt,  would  I  go 
alone  ?  —  Conftrained,  for  Shame, 
to  fay  no  ;  but  felt,  in  my  Heart,  I 
woulde  jump  to  fee  Forejl  Hill  on 
anie  Terms,  I  foe  love  alle  that 
dwell  there. 

Private  and  publick  Prayer,  Ser- 
mons, and  Pfalm-finging  from  Morn 
until  Nighte.  The  onlie  Break  hath 
been  a  Vifit  to  a  quaint  but  pleafing 
Lady,  by  Name  Catherine  Thomp/on, 
whome   my   Hufband   holds  in  great 

Reverence. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Reverence.  She  faid  manie  Things 
worthy  to  be  remembered  ;  onlie 
as  I  remember  them,  I  need  not 
to  write  them  down.  Sorrie  to 
be  caughte  napping  by  my  Huf- 
band,  in  the  Midft  of  the  third 
long-  Sermon.  This  comes  of  over- 
walking,  and  of  being  unable  to 
fleep  o'  Nights  ;  for  whether  it 
be  the  London  Ayre,  or  the  Lon- 
don Methods  of  making  the  Beds, 
or  the  ftrange  Noifes  in  the 
Streets,  I  know  not,  but  I  have 
fcarce  beene  able  to  clofe  my  Eyes 
before  Daybreak  fince  I  came  to 
Town. 

And  now  beginneth  a  new  Life  ; 
for  my  Hufband's  Pupils,  who  were 
difmift  for  a  Time  for  my  Sake, 
returne  to  theire  Tafks  this  Daye, 
and  olde  Mr.  Milton  giveth  Place 
to   his    two  Grandfons,  his    widowed 

Daughter's 


79 


1643- 


Monday. 


8o 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  Daughter's  Children,  Edward  and 
yohn  Phillips^  whom  my  Hufband 
led  in  to  me  juft  now.  Two  plainer 
Boys  I  never  fett  Eyes  on  \  the  one 
weak-eyed  and  puny,  the  other  prim 
and  puritanicall  —  no  more  to  be 
compared  to  our  fweet  Robin  /  ^  *  * 
After  a  few  Words,  they  retired  to 
theire  Books  ;  and  my  Hulhand, 
taking  my  Hand,  fayd  in  his  kind- 
lieft  Manner, — "  And  now  I  leave 
''  my  fweete  Moll  to  the  pleafant 
"  Companie  of  her  own  goode  and 
"  innocent  Thoughtes  ;  and,  if  fhe 
"  needs  more,  here  are  both  ftringed 
"  and  keyed  Inftruments,  and  Books 
"  both  of  the  older  and  modern 
"  Time,  foe  that  llie  will  not  find 
"  the  Hours  hang  heavie."  Me- 
thousrhte  how  much  more  I  fliould 
like  a  Ride  upon  Clover  than  all  the 
Books  that  ever  were  penned ;  for 
the    Door    no    fooner    clofed     upon 

Mr. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Mr.  Milton  than  it  feemed  as  tho' 
he  had  taken  alle  the  Sunihine  with 
him  ;  and  I  fell  to  cleaning  the 
Cafement  that  I  mighte  look  out 
the  better  into  the  Churchyarde, 
and  then  altered  Tables  and  Chairs, 
and  then  fate  downe  with  my  El- 
bows refting  on  the  Window-feat, 
and  my  Chin  on  the  Palms  of  my 
Hands,  gazing  on  I  knew  not  what, 
and  feeling  like  a  Butterflie  under  a 
Wine-glafs. 

I  marvelled  why  it  feemed  foe 
long  lince  I  was  .married,  and  won- 
dered what  they  were  doing  at 
Home, — coulde  fancy  I  hearde  Mo- 
ther chiding,  and  faw  Charlie  ftealing 
into  the  Dairie  and  dipping  his  Fin- 
ger in  the  Cream,  and  Kate  feeding 
the  Chickens,  and  Dick  taking  a 
Stone  out  of  White/tar's  Shoe. 

— Methouo^ht     how     dull     it     was 

to    be    paffing    the    befl   Part    of  the 

G  Summer 


8i 


1643. 


82 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Summer  out  of  the  Reache  of  frefh 
A3Te  and  greene  Fields,  and  won- 
dered, woulde  alle  my  future  Sum- 
mers be   foe  fpent  ? 

Thoughte  how  dull  it  was  to 
live  in  Lodgings,  where  one  could 
not  even  go  into  the  Kitchen  to 
make  a  Pudding  ;  and  how  dull 
to  live  in  a  Town,  without  fome 
young  female  Friend  with  whom 
one  might  have  ventured  into  the 
Streets,  and  where  one  could  not 
foe  much  as  feed  Colts  in  a  Paddock  ; 
how  dull  to  be  without  a  Garden, 
unable  foe  much  as  to  gather  a 
Handfulle  of  ripe  Cherries  ;  and 
how  dull  to  looke  into  a  Church- 
yarde,  where  there  was  a  Man 
digging    a    Grave  ! 

— When  I  wearied  of  ftaring  at 
the  Grave-digger,  I  gazed  at  an 
olde  Gentleman  and  a  young  I^ady 
flowlie  walking  along,  yet  fcarce  as 

if 


of  Mary  Powell.  83 


if  I  noted  them ;  and  was  thinking  1643. 
moftlie  of  Foi'-cjl  Hill,  when  I  faw 
them  ftop  at  our  Doore,  and  pre- 
fently  they  were  fhewn  in,  by  the 
Name  of  Do6lor  and  Miftrefs  Da- 
vies.  I  fent  for  my  Hufband,  and 
entertayned  'em  bothe  as  well  as 
I  could,  till  he  appeared,  and  they 
were  polite  and  pleafant  to  me  ;  the 
young  Lady  tall  and  (lender,  of  a 
cleare  brown  Skin,  and  with  Eyes 
that  were  fine  enough  ;  onlie  there 
was  a  fupprefl  Smile  on  her  Lips 
alle  the  Time,  as  tho'  fhe  had  feen 
me  lookincr  out  of  the  Window. 
She  tried  me  on  all  Subjects,  I  think ; 
for  fhe  ftarted  them  more  adroitlie 
than  I  ;  and  taking  up  a  Book  on 
the  Window-feat,  which  was  the 
Amadigi  of  Bernardo  TaJJo,  printed 
alle  in  Italiqiies,  fhe  fayd,  if  I  loved 
Poetry,  which  ftie  was  fure  I  mufl, 
fhe    knew   fhe    fhoulde   love   me.      I 

did 


84 


Maiden  &  Alarried  Life 


1643.  did  not  tell  her  whether  or  noe. 
Then  we  were  both  lilent.  Then 
Doftor  Davies  talked  vehementlie  to 
^x.' Milton  agaynfl:  the  King;  and 
Mr.  Milton  was  not  fo  contrarie  to 
him  as  I  could  have  wifhed.  Then 
Miftrefs  Davies  tooke  the  Word 
from  her  Father,  and  beganne  to 
talke  to  Mr.  Milton  of  Taffo^  and 
Dante,  and  Boiardo,  and  Ariojio  ;  and 
then  Doctor  Davies  and  I  were  filent. 
Methoughte,  they  both  talked  well, 
tho'  I  knew  fo  little  of  their  Subjeft- 
matter  ;  onlie  they  complimented 
cache  other  too  much.  I  mean  not 
they  were  infincere,  for  cache  feemed 
to  think  highlie  of  the  other ;  onlie 
we  neede  not  fay  alle  we  feele. 

To   conclude,  we   are  to  fup  with 
them  to-morrow. 

Wednesday.         your7iall,    I    havc    Nobodlc    now 
but  you   to  whome  to  tell   my  little 

Griefs  ; 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Griefs  ;  indeede,  before  I  married, 
I  know  not  that  I  had  anie  ;  and 
even  now,  they  are  very  fmall,  onlie 
they  are  foe  new,  that  fometimes 
my  Heart  is   like  to  burft. 

— I  know  not  whether  'tis  fafe  to 
put  them  alle  on  Paper,  onlie  it 
relieves  for  the  Time,  and  it  kills 
Time,  and  perhaps,  a  little  While 
hence  I  may  looke  back  and  fee 
how  fmall  they  were,  and  how  they 
mighte  have  beene  fhunned,  or  better 
borne.     'Tis  worth  the  Triall. 

— Yefterday  Morn,  for  very  Wea- 
rineffe,  I  looked  alle  over  my  Linen 
and  ]Mr.  Miltoit^s^  to  fee  could  I 
finde  anie  Thing  to  mend  ;  but 
there  was  not  a  Stitch  amifs.  I 
woulde  have  played  on  the  Spin- 
nette,  but  was  afrayd  he  fhould  hear 
my  indifferent  Mufick.  Then,  as 
a  laft  Refource,  I  tooke  a  Book — 
Paul  Perrin^s  Hijlorie   of  the   Wal- 

dcnfcs  ; — 


85 


1643. 


86 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


de7ifes ; — and  was,  I  believe,  dozing 
a  little,  when  I  was  aware  of  a 
continuall  Whifpering  and  Cr3'ing. 
I  thought  'twas  fome  Child  in  the 
Street  \  and,  having  fome  Comfits 
in  my  Pocket,  I  flept  foftlie  out  to 
the  Houfe-door  and  lookt  forth,  but 
no  Child  could  I  fee.  Coming  back, 
the  Door  of  my  Hufband's  Studdy 
being  ajar,  I  was  avifed  to  look  in  ; 
and  law  him,  with  awfulle  Brow, 
raifing  his  Hand  in  the  very  A61  to 
ftrike  the  youngefh  Phillips.  I  could 
never  endure  to  fee  a  Child  ftruck, 
foe  haftilie  cryed  out,  "Oh,  don't!" 
— whereon  he  role,  and,  as  if  not 
feeing  me,  gently  clofed  the  Door, 
and,  before  I  reached  my  Chamber, 
I  hearde  foe  loud  a  Crying  that  I 
began  to  cry  too.  Soon,  alle  was 
quiet ;  and  my  Hufband,  coming  in, 
ftept  gently  up  to  me,  and  putting 
his     Arm     about     my    Neck,    fayd, 

"My 


of  Mary  Powell. 


87 


"  My    deareft    Life,    never    agayn,    I       1643. 


"  befeech 


you, 


interfere      between 


"  me  and  the  Boys  :  'tis  as  un- 
"  feemlie  as  tho'  I  fhoulde  interfere 
"  between  you  and  your  Maids, — 
"  when  3^ou  have  any, — and  will 
"  weaken  my  Hands,  dear  Moll^ 
"  more  than  you  have  anie  Suf- 
"  picion  01. 

I  replied,  killing  that  fame  of- 
fending Member  as  I  fpoke,  "  Poor 
"  Jack  would  have  beene  glad,  jull 
"  now,  if  I  had  weakened  them." — 
"  But  that  is  not  the  Qiieftion,"  he 
returned,  "  for  we  fhould  alle  be 
"  glad  to  efcape  neceffary  Punifh- 
"  ment  ;  whereas,  it  is  the  Power, 
"  not  the  Penalty  of  our  bad  Habits, 
"  that  we  fhoulde  feek  to  be  de- 
"  livered  from."  —  "  There  may," 
I  fayd,  ''  be  necelTary,  but  need  not 
"  be  corporal  Punifhment."  "  That 
"  is   as   may  be,"  returned   he,  "  and 

"  hath 


88 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

'  hath  alreadie  been  fettled  by  an 
'  Authoritie  to  which  I  fubmit,  and 
'  hardhe  think  you  will  difpute, 
'  and  that  is,  the  Word  of  God. 
'  Pain  of  Body  is  in  Realitie,  or 
'  ought  to  be,  fooner  over  and  more 
'  fafelie   borne   than   Pain   of  an    in- 


'  genuous    Mind  ; 


and,    as    to    the 


'  Shame, — why,  as  Loi^enzo  de*  Me- 
'  dici  fayd  to  Soccini^  '  The  Shame 
' '  is  in  the  Offence  rather  than  in 
' '  the  Punifhment'  " 

I  replied,  "  Our  Robin  had  never 
"  beene  beaten  for  his  Studdies  ; " 
to  which  he  fayd  with  a  Smile, 
that  even  I  muft  admit  Robin  to 
be  noe  greate  Scholar.  And  fo  in 
good  Humour  left  me  ;  but  I  was 
in  no  good  Humour,  and  hoped 
Heaven  might  never  make  me  the 
Mother  of  a  Son,  for  if  I  fhould 
fee  Mr.  Milton  ftrike  him,  I  fhould 
learn  to  hate  the  Father. — 

Learninof 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Learning  there  was  like  to  be 
Companie  at  Do6tor  Davies\  I  was 
avifed  to  put  on  my  brave  greene 
Satin  Gown  ;  and  my  Hufband  fayd 
it  became  me  well,  and  that  I  onlie 
needed  fome'  Primrofes  and  Cowflips 
in  my  Lap,  to  look  like  May ; — and 
fomewhat  he  added  about  mine  Eyes' 
"  clear  fhining  after  Rain,"  which 
avifed  me  he  had  perceived  I  had 
beene  crying  in  the  Morning,  which 
I  had  hoped  he  had  not. 

Arrivin"-  at  the  Do6tor's  Houfe, 
we  were  fhewn  into  an  emptie 
Chamber ;  at  leaft,  emptie  of  Com- 
panie, but  full  of  every  Thing  clfe  ; 
for  there  were  Books,  and  Globes, 
and  ftringed  and  wind  Inftruments, 
and  ftuffed  Birds  and  Beafts,  and 
ThinjTS  I  know  not  foe  much  as  the 
Names  of,  befidcs  an  Eafel  with 
a  Painting  by  Mrs.  Mildred  on  it, 
which  fhe  meant  to  be  fcene,  or  fhe 

w^oulde 


1643- 


90 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  woulde  have  put  it  away.  Sub- 
jc6l,  "  Brutus' s  Judg^iient : "  which 
I  thought  a  fhrange,  unfeeling  one 
for  a  Woman  ;  and  did  not  wifh 
to  be  Aer  Son.  Soone  fhe  came 
in,  dreft  with  fluddied  and  puritan- 
icall  PlainneiTe  ;  in  brown  Taffeta, 
guarded  with  black  Velvet,  which 
became  her  well  enough,  but  was 
fcarce  fuited  for  the  Seafon.  She 
had  much  to  fay  about  limning,  in 
which  my  Hufband  could  follow 
her  better  than  I  ;  and  then  they 
went  to  the  Globes,  and  Coperniciis^ 
and  Galileo  Galilei,  whom  fhe  called 
a  Martyr,  but  I  do  not.  For,  is  a 
Martyr  one  who  is  unwillinglie  im- 
prifoned,  or  who  formally  recants  ? 
even  tho'  he  affe6led  afterwards  to 
fay  'twas  but  a  Form,  and  cries, 
'"'' Eppure,  ft  muove?''''  The  earlier 
Chriftians  might  have  fayd  'twas 
but   a  Form   to   burn   a   Handfull   of 

Incenfe 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Incenfe  before   Jove's  Statua ;   Pliny 
woulde  have  let  them  goe. 

Afterwards,  when  the  Doctor 
came  in  and  engaged  my  Hufband 
in  Difcourfe,  Miftress  Mildi^cd  de- 
voted herfelfe  to  me,  and  afkt  what 
ProfrrefTe  I  had  made  with  Bernardo 
Tajfo.  I  tolde  her,  none  at  alle,  for 
I  was  equallie  faultie  at  Italiq^ics 
and  lialian,  and  onlie  knew  his  beft 
Work  thro'  IMr.  Fairfax's  Tranf- 
lation  ;  whereat  flie  fell  laughing, 
and  fayd  fhe  begged  my  Forgive- 
neffe,  but  I  was  confounding  the 
Father  with  the  Sonne  ;  then  laught 
agayn,  but  pretended  'twas  not  at 
me  but  at  a  Lady  I  minded  her  of, 
who  never  coulde  remember  to  dif- 
ting^uifh  betwixt  Lionardo  da  Vinci 
and  Lorenzo  dei  Medici.  That  laft 
Name  brought  up  the  Recollection 
of  my  Morning's  Debate  with  my 
Hufband    which  made  me  feel  fad  ; 

and 


91 

1643. 


92 

i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

and  then,  Mrs.  Mildred^  feeminge 
anxious  to  make  me  forget  her 
Unmannerlinefs,  commenced,  "  Can 
"  you  paint  ?" — "  Can  you  fmg  ?" — 
"  Can  you  play  the  Lute  ? " — and, 
at  the  laft,  "■  What  ca7t  you  do  ? " 
I  mighte  have  fa3^d  I  coulde  comb 
out  my  Curls  fmoother  than  fhe 
coulde  hers,  but  did  not.  Other 
Guefts  came  in,  and  talked  fo  much 
agaynft  Prelacy  and  the  Right  divine 
of  Kings  that  I  woulde  fain  we  had 
remained  at  Aflronomie  and  Poetry. 
For  Supper  there  w^as  little  Meat, 
and  noe  ftrong  Drinks,  onlie  a 
thinnifli  foreign  Wine,  with  Cakes, 
Candies,  Sweetmeats,  Fruits,  and 
Confe6lions.  Such,  I  fuppofe,  is 
Town  Fafliion.  At  the  lafte,  came 
Mufick  ;  Miftrefs  Mildred  fang  and 
played  ;  then  preft  me  to  do  the 
like,  but  I  was  foe  fearfulle,  I 
coulde    not  ;     fo    my    HullDand    fayd 

he 


of  Mary  Powell. 


he  woulde  play  for  me,  and  that 
woulde  be  alle  one,  and  foe  covered 
my  BafhfullenelTe  handfomlie. 

Onlie    this     Morning,    juft    before 

going  to   his    Studdy,   he   ftept   back 

and  fayd,  "  Sweet  Moll,  I  know  you 

"  can  both  play  and  fmg — why  will 

"you    not    pra6life?"      I    replyed,   I 

loved    it    not    much.      He    rejoyned, 

"  But   you    know    I    love    it,    and    is 

"  not    that    a    Motive  ? "       I    fayd,    I 

feared  to  let  him  hear  me,  I  played 

fo   ill.      He   replyed,  "Why,  that  is 

"  the  very  Reafon  you   fhoulde  feek 

"  to  play  better,  and   I  am  fure  you 

"  have    Plenty    of    Time.      Perhaps, 

"  in    your    whole     future    Life,    you 

"  will      not      have     fuch     a     Seafon 

"  of    Leifure    as    you    have    now, — 

"  a    golden    Opportunity,  which    you 

"  will    furelie    fcize." — Then    added, 

"  Sir   Thomas  Move's  Wife   learnt  to 

"  play     the     Lute,     folely     that     fhe 

"  mighte 


93 


164; 


94  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  "  mighte  pleafe  her  Hufband."  I 
anfwered,  "  Nay,  what  Need  to  tell 
"  me  of  Sir  Thomas  Alores  Wife,  or 
''  of  Huoh  Grotiuss  Wife,  when  I 
"was  the  Wife  of  yohn  Milton?'' 
He  looked  at  me  twice,  and  quick- 
lie,  too,  at  this  Saying ;  then  laugh- 
ing, cried,  "  You  cleaving  Mifchief ! 
"  I  hardlie  know  whether  to  take 
"  that  Speech  amiffe  or  well — how- 
"  ever,  you  fliall  have  the  Benefit  of 
"  the  Doubt." 

And  fo  away  laughing  ;  and  I, 
for  very  Shame,  fat  down  to  the 
Spinnette  for  two  wearie  Hours, 
till  foe  tired,  I  coulde  cry  ;  and 
when  I  delifted,  coulde  hear  Jack 
wailing  over  his  Tafk.  'Tis  raining 
faft,  I  cannot  get  out,  nor  fhould 
I  dare  to  go  alone,  nor  where  to  go 
to  if  'twere  fine.  I  fancy  ill  Smells 
from  the  Churchyard — 'tis  long  to 
Dinner-time,   with   noe   Change,   noe 

Exercife  ; 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Exercife  ;    and   oh,   I  figh   for  Foreji 
Hill. 

— A  dull  Dinner  with  Mrs.  Phil- 
lips^ whom  I  like  not  much.  Chrif- 
topher  Milton  there,  who  flared  hard 
at  me,  and  put  me  out  of  Coun- 
tenance with  his  ftrange  Queftions. 
My  Hufband  checked  him.  He  is 
a  Law3^er,  and  has  Wit  enoughe. 

Mrs.  Phillips  fpeaking  of  fecond 
Marriages,  I  unawares  hurt  her  by 
giving  my  Voice  agaynfl  them.  It 
feems  fhe  is  thinking  of  contra6ting 
a  fecond  Marriage. 

— At  Supper,  wifhing  to  ingra- 
tiate myfelf  with  the  Boys,  talked 
to  them  of  Countrie  Sports,  etc.  : 
to  which  the  youngeft  liftened 
greedilie  :  and  at  length  I  was 
avifed  to  alk  them  woulde  they  not 
like  to  fee  Foreji  Hill?  to  which  the 
elder  replyed  in  his  molt  methodicall 

Manner, 


95 

1643- 


96 


i643- 


Friday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Manner,  "  If  Mr.  Powell  has  a  good 
"  Library."  For  this  Piece  of  Hy- 
pocrifie,  at  which  I  heartiHe  laught, 
he  was  commended  by  his  Uncle. 
Hypocrifie  it  was,  for  Mafter  Ned 
cryeth  over  his  Talkes  pretty  nearlie 
as  oft  as  the  youngeft. 

To  rewarde  my  zealous  Pra6lice 
to-day  on  the  Spinnette,  Mr.  Milton 
produced  a  Collection  of  ^''  Ayres,  and 
"  Dialogzces^  for  one,  two,  and  three 
"  Voices^''  by  his  Friend,  Mr.  Harry 
Lawes,  which  he  fayd  I  fhoulde  find 
very  pleafant  Studdy  ;  and  then  he 
told  me  alle  about  theire  getting  up 
the  Mafque  of  Comits  in  Lndlow 
Caftle,  and  how  well  the  Lady's 
Song  was  fung  by  Mr.  Lawes'  Pupil, 
the  Lady  Alice,  then  a  fweet,  modeft 
Girl,  onlie  thirteen  Years  of  Age, — 
and  he  told  me  of  the  Singing  of  a 
faire   Italian  young   Signora,    named 

Leonora 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Leonora  Barroni^  with  her  Mother 
and  Sifter,  whome  he  had  hearde  at 
Rome^  at  the  Concerts  of  Cardinal 
Barberini ;  and  how  ftie  was  "as 
"  gentle  and  raodeft  as  fweet  Moll^^ 
yet  not  afrayd  to  open  her  Mouth, 
and  pronounce  everie  Syllable  dif- 
tindlie,  and  with  the  proper  Em- 
phafis  and  Paffion  when  ftie  fang. 
And  after  this,  to  my  greate  Con- 
tentment, he  tooke  me  to  the 
Gray's  Imt  Walks,  where,  the  Af- 
ternoon being  fine,  was  much  Com- 
panie. 

After  Supper,  I  proposed  to  the 
Boys  that  we  ftioulde  tell  Stories  ; 
and  Mr.  Milton  tolde  one  charm- 
inglie,  but  then  went  away  to  write 
a  Lalin  Letter.  Soe  Ned^s  Turn 
came  next  ;  and  I  muft,  if  I  can, 
for  very  Mirthe's  Sake,  write  it 
down  in  his  exa6l  Words,  they 
were  foe  pragmaticall. 

H  "On 


97 


1643. 


98 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


"  On  a  Daye,  there  was  a  certain 
Child  wandered  forthe,  that  would 
play.  He  met  a  Bee,  and  fayd, 
'Bee,  wilt  thou  play  with  me?' 
The  Bee  fayd,  '  No,  I  have  my 
Duties  to  perform,  tho'  you,  it 
woulde  feeme,  have  none.  I 
muft  away  to  make  Honey.' 
Then  the  Childe,  '  abafht,  went 
to  the  Ant.  He  fayd,  'Will  you 
play  with  me,  Ant  ? '  The  Ant 
replied,  '  Nay,  I  mufl  provide 
againft  the  Winter.'  In  fhorte, 
he  found  that  everie  Bird,  Beafte, 
and  Infe6l  he  accofted,  had  a  clofer 
Eye  to  the  Purpofe  of  their  Cre- 
ation than  himfelfe.  Then  he 
fayd,  '  I  will  then  back,  and  con 
my  T^^:— Moral  The  Moral 
of  the  foregoing  Fable,  my  deare 
Aunt,  is  this — We  muft  love  Work 
better  than  Play." 

With  alle  my  Intereft  for  Chil- 
dren, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


99 


dren,  how  is  it  pollible  to  take 
anie  Intereft  in  foe  formall  a  little 
Prigge  ? 


i%3- 


I  have  jufl  done  fomewhat  for 
Mafler  Ned  which  he  coulde  not  doe 
for  himfelfe  — z/2>.  tenderly  bound 
up  his  Hand,  which  he  had  badly 
cut.  Wiping  away  fome  few  na- 
turall  Tears,  he  muft  needs  fay, 
"  I  am  quite  afhamed,  Auiit^  you 
"  fhoulde  fee  me  cry ;  but  the  worft 
"  of  it  is,  that  alle  this  Payne  has 
"  beene  for  noe  Good  ;  whereas, 
"  when  my  Uncle  beateth  me  for 
"  mifconftruing  my  Latin,  tho'  I 
"  cry  at  the  Time,  all  the  While 
"  I  know  it  is  for  my  Advantage." 
— If  this  Boy  goes  on  preaching 
foe,  I  fhall  foon  hate  him. 

— Mr.  Milton  having  ftepped  out 
before  Supper,  came  back  looking 
foe    blythe,    that    I    afkt    if   he    had 

hearde 


Saturday. 


loo  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  hearde  good  News.  He  fayd,  yes  : 
that  fome  Friends  had  long  beene 
perfuading  him,  againft  his  Will, 
to  make  publick  fome  of  his  Latin 
Poems ;  and  that,  having  at  length 
confented  to  theire  Wilhes,  he  had 
beene  with  Mojley  the  Publifher  in 
PauPs  Churchyard,  who  agreed  to 
print  them.  I  fayd,  I  was  forrie 
I  fhoulde  be  unable  to  read  them. 
He  fayd  he  was  forry  too  ;  he  mull 
tranflate  them  for  me.  I  thanked 
him,  but  obferved  that  Tradu6tions 
were  never  foe  good  as  Originalls. 
He  rejoyned,  "  Nor  am  I  even  a 
"good  Tranflater."  I  afkt,  "Why 
"  not  write  in  your  owne  Tongue  ?  " 
He  fayd,  '^  Latin  is  underftood  all 
"over  the  Worlde."  I  fayd,  "But 
"  there  are  manie  in  your  owne 
"  Country  do  not  underfland  it." 
He  was  filent  foe  long  upon  that, 
that    I    fuppofed    he    did    not    mean 

to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


to  anfwer  me  ;  but  then  cried, 
"  You  are  right,  fweet  Moll. — Our 
"  beft  Writers  have  written  their 
"  beft  Works  in  Engli/Ji,  and  I  will 
"  hereafter  doe  the  fame, — for  I  feel 
"  that  my  beft  Work  is  ftill  io  come. 
"  Poetry  hath  hitherto  been  with 
"  me  rather  the  Recreation  of  a 
"  Mind  confcious  of  its  Health, 
"  than  the  deliberate  Tafk-work  of 
"  a  Soule  that  muft  hereafter  give 
"  an  Account  of  its  Talents.  Yet 
"  my  Mind,  in  the  free  Circuit  of 
"  her  Mufing,  has  ranged  over  a 
"  thoufand  Themes  that  lie,  like 
"  the  Marble  in  the  Quarry,  readie 
"  for  anie  Shape  that  Fancy  and 
"  Skill  may  give.  Neither  Lazinefs 
"  nor  Caprice  makes  me  difficult  in 
"  my  Choice  ;  for,  the  longer  I  am 
"  in  fele6ling  my  Tree,  and  laying 
"  my  Axe  to  the  Root,  the  founder 
"  it  will    be    and   the   riper   for   Ufe. 

"Nor 


lOI 


1643- 


I02 


i643- 


Sunday 
Even. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

'  Nor  is  an  Undertaking  that  fhall 
'  be  one  of  high  Duty,  to  be  en- 
'  tered  upon  without  Prayer  and 
'  Difcipline  :  —  it  woulde  be  Pre- 
'  fumption  indeede,  to  commence 
'  an  Enterprife  which  I  meant 
'  fhoulde  delighte  and  profit  every 
'  inflrufted  and  elevated  Mind  with- 
'  out  fo  much  Paynes-takinge  as  it 
'  fhould  coll  a  poor  Mountebank  to 
'  balance  a  Pole  on  his  Chin." 

In  the  Clouds  agayn.  At  Dinner, 
to-daye,  Mr.  Milton  catechifed  the 
Boys  on  the  Morning's  Sermon,  the 
Heads  of  which,  though  amounting 
to  a  Dozen,  Ned  tolde  off  roundlie. 
Roguifh  little  Jack  looked  flylie  at 
me,  fays,  "  Aunt  coulde  not  tell  off 
"  the  Sermon."  "  Why  not  ?  "  fays 
his  Uncle.  "  Becaufe  fhe  w^as  lleep- 
"  ing,"  fays  Jack.  Provoked  with 
the    Child,    I     turned     fcarlett,    and 

haftilie 


of  Mary  Powell. 


haftilie  fayd,  "I  was  not."  No- 
bodie  fpoke  ;  but  I  repented  the 
Falfitie  the  Moment  it  had  efcaped 
me  ;  and  there  was  Ned.,  a  folding 
of    his    Hands,    drawing    down    his 

Mouth,  and  clofing  his  Eyes 

My  FIu{band  tooke  me  to  talke  for 
it  when  we  were  alone,  foe  tenderlie 
that  I  wept. 

Jack  fayd  this  Morning,  "  I  know 
"  Something — I  know  Aunt  keeps 
"  a  Journall."  "  And  a  good  Thing 
"  if  you  kept  one,  too,  Jack^''  fayd 
his  Uncle,  "  it  would  fhew  you  how 
"  little  3^ou  doe."  Jack  was  filenced  ; 
but  Ned,  purfmg  up  his  Mouth, 
fays,  "  I  can't  think  what  Aunt  can 
"have  to  put  in  a  Journall  —  fhould 
"  not  you  like,  Uncle,  to  fee  ? " 
"  No,  Ned;'  fays  his  Uncle,  "  I  am 
"  upon  Honour,  and  your  dear  Aunt's 
"Journall   is   as  fafe,  for  me,  as  the 

Iden 


a 


103 


1643. 


Monday. 


"■O 


I04 


1643- 


Saturday 
Even. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

'  golden  Bracelets  that  King  Alfred 
'  hung  upon  the  High-way.  I  am 
'  glad  fhe  has  fuch  a  Refource,  and, 
'  as  we  know  fhe  cannot  have  much 
'  News  to  put  in  it,  we  may  the 
'  more  fafely  rely  that  it  is  a  Trea- 
'  fury  of  fweet,  and  high,  and  holy, 
'  and  profitable  Thoughtes." 

Oh,  how  deeplie  I  blufht  at  this 
ill-deferved  Prayfe  !  How  forrie 
I  was  that  I  had  ever  regiflered 
aught  that  he  woulde  grieve  to 
read  !  I  fecretly  refolved  that  this 
Daye's  Journalling  fhould  be  the 
laft,  untill  I  had  attained  a  better 
Frame  of  Mind. 

I  have  kept  Silence,  yea,  even 
from  good  Words,  but  it  has  beene 
a  Payn  and  Griefe  unto  me.  Good 
Miftrefs  Catherine  Tkompfon  called 
on  me  a  few  Dayes  back,  and  fpoke 
fo  wifely  and  fo  wholefomelie  con- 
cerning 


of  Mary  Powell. 


cerning  my  Lot,  and  the  Way  to 
make  it  happy,  (fhe  is  the  firft  that 
hath  fpoken  as  if  'twere  poffible  it 
mighte  not  be  foe  alreadie,)  that 
I  felt  for  a  Seafon  quite  heartened  ; 
but  it  has  alle  faded  away.  Becaufe 
the  Source  of  Cheerfulneffe  is  not  m 
me,  anie  more  than  in  a  dull  Land- 
fkip,  which  the  Sun  lighteneth  for 
awhile,  and  when  he  has  fet,  its 
Beauty  is  gone. 

Oh  me  !  how  merry  I  was  at 
Home  ! — The  Source  of  Cheerful- 
neffe feemed  in  me  then,  and  why  is 
it  not  now  ?  Partly  becaufe  alle  that 
I  was  there  tausrht  to  think  ricrht  is 


here  thought  wrong ;  becaufe  much 
that  I  there  thought  harmleffe  is 
here  thought  finfulle  ;  becaufe  I 
cannot  get  at  anie  of  the  Things 
that  employed  and  interefled  me 
there,  and  becaufe  the  Things  within 
my  Reach  here  do   not   intereft  me. 

Then, 


105 

1643. 


io6 
1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


Then,  'tis  no  fmall  Thing  to  be 
continiialHe  deemed  ignorant  and 
mifinformed,  and  to  have  one's 
Errors  continuallie  covered,  however 
handfomelie,  even  before  Children. 
To  fay  Nothing  of  the  Weight  upon 
the  Spiritts  at  firfle,  from  Change 
of  Ayre,  and  Diet,  and  Scene,  and 
Lofs  of  habituall  Exercife  and  Com- 
panie  and  houfeholde  Cares.  Thefe 
petty  Griefs  try  me  forelie  ;  and 
when  Coufin  Ralph  came  in  unex- 
pe6ledHe  this  Morn,  tho'  I  never 
much  cared  for  him  at  Home,  yet 
the  Sighte  of  Rofe''s  Brother,  frefh 
from  Sheep/cote  and  Oxford  and  Forefl 
Hill,  foe  upfet  me  that  I  fank  into 
Tears.  No  Wonder  that  Mr.  Milton, 
then  coming  in,  fhould  haftilie 
enquire  if  Ralph  had  brought  ill 
Tidings  from  Home  ;  and,  finding 
alle  was  well  there,  fhoulde  look 
ftrangelie.     He  alkt  Ralph,  however, 

to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


to  flay  to  Dinner ;  and  we  had  much 
Talk  of  Home  ;  but  now,  I  regret 
having  omitted  to  alk  a  thoufand 
Quefkions. 

Mr.  Milton  in  his  Clofet  and  I  in 
my  Chamber. — For  the  firft  Time 
he  feems  this  Evening  to  have  founde 
out  how  diffimilar  are  our  Minds. 
Meaning  to  pleafe  him,  I  fayd,  "  I 
"  kept  awake  bravelie,  to-nighte, 
"  through  that  long,  long  Sermon, 
"  for  your  Sake." — "  And  why  not 
"for  God's  Sake?"  cried  he,  "why 
"  not  for  your  owne  Sake  ?  —  Oh, 
"  fweet  Wife^  I  fear  you  have  yet 
"  much  to  learn  of  the  Depth  of 
"  Happineffe  that  is  comprifed  in 
"  the  Communion  between  a  for- 
"  given  Soul  and  its  Creator.  It 
"  hallows  the  moft  fecular  as  well 
"  as  the  moft  fpirituall  Employ- 
"  ments  ;    it  gives   Pleafure   that  has 


a 


no 


107 


1643- 


Sunday 
Even. 

Aug.  15. 


io8 


1643. 


Aug.  21, 
Saturday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

"  no  after  BitternelTe  ;  it  gives  Plea- 
"  fure  to  God — and  oh  !  thinke  of 
"  the  Depth  of  Meaning  in  thofe 
"  Words  !  think  what  it  is  for  us 
"  to  be  capable  of  giving  God  Plea- 
"  fure  ! " 

— Much  more,  in  the  fame  Vein  ! 
to  which  I  could  not,  with  equal 
Power,  refpond  ;  foe,  he  away  ^o 
his  Studdy,  to  pray  perhaps  for  my 
Change  of  Heart,  and  I  to  my 
Bed. 

Oh  Heaven  !  can  it  be  poffible  ? 
am  I  agayn  at  Forejl  Hill?  How 
ftrange,  how  joyfulle  an  Event,  tho' 
brought  about  with  Teares  !  —  Can 
it  be,  that  it  is  onlie  a  Month  fince 
I  ftoode  at  this  Toilette  as  a  Bride  ? 
and  lay  awake  on  that  Bed,  thinking 
of  Londoit  ?  How  long  a  Month  ! 
and  oh  !  this  prefent  one  will  be  alle 
too  fhort. 

It 


of  Mary  Powell. 


It  feemeth  that  Ralph  Hewlett, 
fhocked  at  my  Teares  and  the  Alter- 
ation in  my  Looks,  broughte  back 
a  difmall  Report  of  me  to  deare 
Father  and  Mother,  pronouncing  me 
either  ill  or  unhappie.  Thereupon, 
Richard,  with  his  ufuall  Impe- 
tuofitie,  prevayled  on  Father  to  let 
him  and  Ralph  fetch  me  Home  for 
a  While,  at  leafte  till  after  Michael- 
maj/e. 

How  furprifed  was  I  to  fee  Dick 
enter  !  My  Arms  were  £be  faft 
about  his  Neck,  and  my  Face  preft 
foe  clofe  to  his  Shoulder,  that  I  did 
not  for  a  While  perceive  the  grave 
Looke  he  had  put  on.  At  the  laft, 
I  was  avifed  to  afk  what  broughte 
him  foe  unexpe6tedlie  to  London; 
and  then  he  hemmed  and  looked  at 
Ralph,  and  Ralph  looked  at  Dick, 
and  then  Dick  fayd  bluntly,  he  hoped 
Mr.  Milton  woulde   fpare   me   to   go 

Home 


109 
1643- 


no  Maide7i  &  Married  Life 

1643.  Home  till  after  Michaelmajfe^  and 
Father  had  fent  him  on  Purpofe  to 
fay  foe.  Mr.  Milton  lookt  furprifed 
and  hurte,  and  fayd,  how  could  he 
be  expe6ted  to  part  foe  foone  with 
me,  a  Month's  Bride  ?  it  muft  be 
fome  other  Time  :  he  had  intended 
to  take  me  himfelfe  to  ForeJl^Hill 
the  following  Spring,  but  coulde 
not  fpare  Time  now,  nor  liked  me 
to  goe  without  him,  nor  thought 
I  fhould  like  it  myfelf  But  my 
Eyes  faid  /  JJioitlde,  and  then  he 
gazed  earneftlie  at  me'  and  lookt 
hurt ;  and  there  was  a  dead  Silence. 
Then  Dick,  helitating  a  little,  fayd 
he  was  forrie  to  tell  us  my  Father 
was  ill  ;  on  which  I  clafped  my 
Hands  and  beganne  to  weepe  ;  and 
Mr.  Milton,  changing  Countenance, 
alkt  fundrie  Queftions,  which  Dick 
anfwered  well  enough  ;  and  then 
faid   he  woulde  not  be  foe  cruel   as 

to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


to  keepe  me  from  a  Father  I  foe 
dearlie  loved,  if  he  were  fick,  though 
he  liked  not  my  travelling  in  fuch 
unfettled  Times  with  fo  young 
a  Convo}'.  Ralph  fayd  they  had 
brought  Diggojy  with  them,  who 
was  olde  and  fleddy  enough,  and 
had  ridden  my  Mother's  Mare  for 
my  Ufe  ;  and  Dick  was  for  our 
ofettinsf  forward  a  Stage  on  our 
Journey  the  fame  Evening,  but  Mr. 
Milton  infilled  on  our  abiding  till 
the  following  Morn,  and  woulde 
not  be  overruled.  And  gave  me 
leave  to  flay  a  Month,  and  gave 
me  INIoney,  and  many  kind  Words, 
which  I  coulde  mark  little,  being 
foe  overtaken  with  Concern  about 
dear  Father^  whofe  Illnefs  I  feared 
to  be  worfe  than  Dick  fayd,  feeing 
he  feemed  foe  clofe  and  dealt  in 
dark  Speeches  and  Parables.  After 
Dinner,  they  went    forth,  they  fayd, 

to 


III 


1643- 


I  12 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

to  look  after  the  Horfes,  but  I  think 
to  fee  Lo7tdon,  and  returned  not  till 
Supper. 

We    got   them   Beds    in    a    Houfe 
hard  by,  and  ftarted  at  earlie  Dawn. 

Mr.  Milton  killed  me  moft  ten- 
derlie  agayn  and  agayn  at  |5arting, 
as  though  he  feared  to  lofe  me  ;  but 
it  had  feemed  to  me  foe  hard  to 
brook  the  Delay  of  even  a  few  Hours 
when  Father^  in  his  Sickneffe,  was 
wanting  me,  that  I  took  Leave  of 
my  Hufband  with  lefs  Affection 
than  I  mighte  have  fhewn,  and  onlie 
began  to  find  my  Spiritts  lighten 
when  we  were  fairly  quit  of  London^ 
with  its  vile  Sewers  and  Drains,  and 
to  breathe  the  fweete,  pure  Morning 
Ayre,  as  we  rode  fwiftlie  along. 
Dick  called  London  a  vile  Place,  and 
fpake  to  Ralph  concerning  what  they 
had  feene  of  it  overnighte,  whence 
it     appeared     to     me,    that    he    had 

beene 


of  Mary  Powell. 


beene  pleafure-feeking  more  than, 
in  Father's  State,  he  ought  to  have 
beene.  But  Dick  was  always  a 
recklefs  Lad; — and  oh,  what  Joy, 
on  reaching  this  deare  Place,  to  find 
Father  had  onlie  beene  fuffering 
under  one  of  his  ufual  Stomach 
Attacks,  which  have  no  Danger  in 
them,  and  which  Dick  had  exagger- 
ated, fearing  Mr.  Milton  woulde  not 
otherwife  part  with  me;  —  I  was  a 
little  fhocked,  and  coulde  not  help 
fcolding  him,  though  I  was  the 
Gainer  ;  but  he  boldlie  defended 
what  he  called  his  "  Stratagem  of 
"  War,"  faying  it  was  quite  allow- 
able in  dealing  with  a  Puritan. 

As  for  Robin,  he  was  wild  with 
Joy  when  I  arrived  ;  and  hath  never 
ceafed  to  hang  about  me.  The 
other  Children  are  riotous  in  their 
Mirth.  Little  yofcelyn  hath  returned 
from  his  Fofter-mother's  Farm,  and 
I  is 


113 


1643. 


114 


i643- 


Monday. 


Maiden  &  Married,  Life 


is    noe     longer 


a  puny  Child — 'tis 
thought  he  will  thrive.  I  have 
him  conftantly  in  my  Arms  or 
riding  on  my  Shoulder  ;  and  with 
Delight  have  revifited  alle  my  olde 
Haunts,  patted  Clover,  &c^  Deare 
Mother  is  moft  kind.  The  Maids 
as  oft  call  me  Mrs.  Molly  as  Mrs. 
Milton,  and  then  fmile,  and  beg 
Pardon.  Rofe  and  Agnew  have  been 
here,  and  have  made  me  promife  to 
vifit  Sheep/cote  before  I  return  to 
London.  The  whole  Houfe  feems 
full  of  Glee. 

It  feemes  quite  ftrange  to  heare 
Dick  and  Harry  finging  loyal  Songs 
and  drinking  the  King''s  Health  after 
foe  recentlie  hearing  his  M.  foe 
continuallie  fpoken  agaynfl.  Alfo, 
to  fee  a  Lad  of  Robing s  Age,  coming 
in  and  out  at  his  Will,  doing  anie- 
thing  or   nothing ;    inftead    of  being 

ever 


of  Mary  Powell. 


ever  at  his  Tafkes,  and  looking  at 
Meal-times  as  if  he  were  repeating 
them  to  himfelfe.  I  know  which 
I  like  befl. 

A  molt  kind  Letter  from  Mr. 
Milton,  hoping  Father  is  better,  and 
praying  for  News  of  him.  How 
can  I  write  to  him  without  betraying 
Dick?  Robin  andj(  I  rode,  this 
Morning,  to  Sheep/cote.  Thoughte 
Mr.  Agnew  received  me  with  un- 
wonted Gravitie.  He  tolde  me 
he  had  received  a  Letter  from 
my  Hufband,  praying  News  of  my 
Father,  feeing  I  had  fent  him  none, 
and  that  he  had  writ  to  him  that 
Father  was  quite  well,  never  had 
been  better.  Then  he  fayd  to  me 
he  feared  Mr.  Milton  was  labouring 
under  fome  falfe  Impreffion.  I  tolde 
him  trulie,  that  Dick,  to  get  me 
Home,  had  exaggerated  a  trifling 
Illncfs    of  Father''s,  but   that    I  was 

guiltleffe 


115 


1643. 


ii6  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  guiltleffe  of  it.  He  fayd  Dick  was 
inexcufable,  and  that  noe  good  End 
coulde  jufllfie  a  Man  of  Honour  in 
overcharging  the  Truth ;  and  that, 
fince  I  was  innocent,  I  fhoulde  write 
to  my  Hufband  to  clear  myfelf.  I 
faid  briefly,  I  woulde  ;  and  I  mean 
to  do  foe,  onHe  not  to-daye.  Oh, 
fweet  countrie  Life  !  I  was  made  for 
you  and  none  other.  This  riding 
and  walking  at  one's  owne  free  Will, 
in  the  frefli  pure  Ayre,  coming  in 
to  earlie,  heartie,  wholefome  Meals, 
feafoned  with  harmlefle  Jefls, — 
feeing  frefh  Faces  everie  Daye 
come  to  the  Houfe,  knowing  everie 
Face  one  meets  out  of  Doores, — 
fupping  in  the  Garden,  and  remain- 
ing in  the  Ayre  long  after  the  Moon 
has  rifen,  talking,  laughing,  or  per- 
haps dancing, — if  this  be  not  Joy- 
fulnefle,  what  is  ? 

For    certain,    I    woulde    that    Mr. 

Milton 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Milton  were  here  ;  but  he  woulde 
call  our  Sports  miftimed,  and  throw 
a  Damp  upon  our  Mirth  by  not 
joining  in  it.  Soe  I  will  enjoy 
my  Holiday  while  it  lafts,  for  it 
may  be  long  ere  I  get  another — 
efpeciallie  if  his  and  Father''s  Opi- 
nions get  wider  afunder,  as  I  think 
they  are  doing  alreadie. '  My  pro- 
mifed  Spring  Holiday  may  come  to 
Nothing. 

My  Hufband  hath  writ  to  me 
ftrangelie,  chiding  me  moil  unkindlie 
for  what  was  noe  Fault  of  mine,  to 
wit,  Dick's  Falfitie  ;  and  wondering 
I  can  derive  anie  Pleafure  from  a 
Holiday  fo  obtayned,  which  he  will 
not  curtayl,  but  will  on.  noe  Pretence 
extend.  Nay  !  but  methinks  Mr. 
Alilion  prefumeth  fomewhat  too 
much  on  his  marital  Authoritie, 
writing    in    this    Strayn.       I    am    no 

mere 


117 


1643- 


Monday. 


ii8 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

mere  Child  neither,  nor  a  runaway 
Wife,  nor  in  fiich  bad  Companie, 
in  mine  own  Father's  Houfe,  where 
he  firfle  faw  me  ;  and,  was  it  anie 
Fault  of  mine,  indeed,  that  Father 
was  not  ill?  or  can  I  wifh  he  had 
beene?     No,  truly! 

This  Letter  hath  forelie  vexed 
me.  Dear  Father,  feeing  me  foe 
duUe,  aikt  me  if  I  had  had  bad 
News.  I  fayd  I  had,  for  that  Mr. 
Milton  wanted  me  back  at  the 
Month's  End.  He  fayd,  lightlie. 
Oh,  that  muft  not  be,  I  muft  at  all 
Events  ftay  over  his  Birthdaye,  he 
could  not  fpare  me  fooner  ;  he 
woulde  fettle  all  that.  Let  it  be  foe 
then — I  am  content  enoughe. 

To  change  the  Current  of  my 
Thoughts,  he  hath  renewed  the 
Scheme  for  our  Vilit  to  Lady  Falk- 
land, which,  Weather  permitting, 
is    to    take    Place    to-morrow.       'Tis 

long 


of  Mary  Powell. 


long  fince  I  have  feene  her,  foe  I 
am  willing  to  goe;  but  fhe  is  dearer 
to  Rofe  than  to  me,  though  I  refpe6t 
her  much. 

The  whole  of  Yefterday  occupyde 
with  our  Vilit.  I  love  Lady  Falk- 
land well,  yet  her  religious  Mellan- 
choUie  and  Prefages  of  Evil  have 
left  a  Weight  upon  my  Spiritts. 
To-daye,  we  have  a  Family  Dinner. 
The  Agncws  come  not,  but  the 
Merediths  doe:  we  fhall  have  more 
Mirthe  if  lefs  Wit.  My  Time  now 
draweth  foe  fhort,  I  muft  crowd  into 
it  alle  the  Pleafure  I  can;  and  in 
this,  everie  one  confpires  to  help 
me,  faying,  "Poor  Moll  muft  foon 
"return  to  LondonP  Never  was 
Creature  foe  petted  or  fpoylt.  How 
was  it  there  was  none  of  this  before 
I  married,  when  they  might  have 
me    alwaies?     ah,    therein     lies     the 

Secret. 


119 


1643. 


Wednesday. 


I20  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.       Secret.      Now,    we     have    mutuallie 
tafted  our  Loffe.  ^ 

Ralph  Hewlett,  going  agayn  to 
Town,  was  avifed  to  afk  whether 
I  had  anie  Commiffion  wherewith 
to  charge  him.  I  bade  him  tell 
Mr.  Milton  that  fince  we  fhould 
meet  foe  foone,  I  need  not  write, 
but  would  keep  alle  my  News  for 
our  Fire-fide.  Robin  added,  "  Say, 
"we  cannot  fpare  her  yet,"  and 
Father  echoed  the  fame. 

But  I  begin  to  feel  now,  that  I 
muft  not  prolong  my  Stay.  At  the 
leafle,  not  beyond  Father'' s  Birthday. 
My  Month  is  hafling  to  a  Clofe. 


Sept.  21.  Battle  at  Newbury — Lord  Falk- 
land flayn.  Oh,  fatal  Lofs!  Father 
and  Mother  going  off  to  my  Lady: 
but  I  think  fhe  will  not  fee  them. 
Aunt  and  Uncle  Hewlett,  who  brought 
the  News,  can  talk  of  Nothing  elfe. 

Alle 


of  Mary  Powell. 


121 


Alle  Sadneffe  and  Confternation. 
I  am  wearie  of  bad  News,  public 
and  private,  and  feel  lefs  and  lefs 
Love  for  the  Puritans,  yet  am  forced 
to  feem  more  loyal  than  I  really  am, 
foe  high  runs  party  Feeling  juft  now 
at  Home. 

My  Month  has  paffed ! 

A  moft  difpleafed  Letter  from 
my  Hufband,  minding  me  that 
my  Leave  of  Abfence  hath  expired, 
and  that  he  likes  not  the  Meffages 
he  received  through  Ralph^  nor 
the  unreafonable  and  hurtfulle  Paf- 
times  which  he  finds  have  beene 
making  my  quiet  Home  diftaftc- 
fulle.  Afking,  are  they  fuitable, 
under  Circumftances  of  nationall 
Confternation  to  my  owne  Party,  or 
feemlie  in  foe  young  a  Wife,  apart 
from  her  Hufband  ?  To  conclude 
infifting,   with    more    Authoritie    than 

Kindnefle, 


1643. 

Sept.  22 


Sept.  28. 


122  Maide7i  &  Married  Life 

1643.       KindnelTe,    on    my    immediate    Re- 
turn. 

With  Tears  in  my  Eyes,  I  have 
beene  to  mv  Father.  I  have  tolde 
him  I  mud  goe.  He  fayth,  Oh 
no,  not  yet.  I  perfifled,  I  muft, 
my  Hufband  was  foe  very  angry. 
He  rejoined.  What,  angry  with  my 
fweet  Moll?  and  for  fpending  a  few 
Days  w^ith  her  old  Father?  Can  it 
be?  hath  it  come  to  this  alreadie? 
I  fayd,  my  Month  had  expired.  He 
fayd,  Nonfenfe,  he  had  alwa3's  afkt 
me  to  flay  over  Michaelmajfe,  till  his 
Birthday;  he  knew  Dick  had  named 
it  to  Mr.  Millon.  I  fayd,  Mr.  Milton 
had  taken  no  Notice  thereof,  but 
had  onlie  granted  me  a  Month. 
He  grew  peevifh,  and  faid,  "  Pooh, 
"  pooh !  "  Thereat,  after  a  Silence 
of  a  Minute  or  two,  I  fayd  3-et  agayn, 
I  muft  goe.  He  took  me  by  the 
two  Wrifls   and  fayd.  Doe  you  wifh 

to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


to  go?  I  burft  into  Teares,  but 
made  noe  Anfwer.  He  fayd,  That 
is  Anfwer  enough, — how  doth  this 
Puritan  carry  it  with  you,  my  Child? 
and  fnatched  his  Letter.  I  fayd. 
Oh,  don't  read  that,  and  would  have 
drawn  it  back;  but  Father,  when 
heated,  is  impoffible  to  controwl; 
therefore,  quite  deaf  to  Entreaty,  he 
would  read  the  Letter,  which  was 
unfit  for  him  in  his  chafed  Mood; 
then,  holding  it  at  Arm's  Length, 
and  fmiting  it  with  his  Fift, — Ha! 
and  is  it  thus  he  dares  addrefs  a 
Daughter  of  mine?  (with  Words 
added,  I  dare  not  write) — but  be 
quiet,  Moll,  be  at  Peace,  my  Child, 
for  he  fhall  not  have  you  back  for 
awhile,  even  though  he  come  to 
fetch  you  himfelf.  The  maddeft 
Thing  I  ever  did  was  to  give  you  to 
this  Roundhead.  He  and  Roger 
Agnew  talked  me  over  with  foe  many 

fine 


123 


1643. 


124 

1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

^ 

fine  Words. — What  poffeffed  me, 
I  know  not.  Your  Mother  always 
faid  Evil  woulde  come  of  it.  But 
as  long  as  thy  Father  has  a  Roof  over 
his  Head,  Child,  thou  haft  a  Home. 

As  foone  as  he  woulde  hear  me, 
I  begged  him  not  to  take  on  foe, 
for  that  I  was  not  an  unhappy  Wife; 
but  my  Tears,  he  fayd,  belied  me; 
and  indeed,  with  Fear  and  Agitation, 
they  flowed  faft  enough.  But  I 
fayd,  I  7nujl  goe  home,  and  wiftied 
I  had  gone  fooner,  and  woulde  he 
let  Diggory  take  me!  No,  he  fayd, 
not  a  Man  Jack  on  his  Land  fhoulde 
faddle  a  Horfe  for  me,  nor  would 
he  lend  me  one,  to  carry  me  back 
to  Mr.  Milton;  at  the  leafte  not  for 
a  While,  till  he  had  come  to  Reafon, 
and  protefted  he  was  forry  for  having 
writ  to  me  foe  harfhly. 

"  Soe  be  content,  Moll^  and  make 
"  not    two   Enemies,   inftead   of  one. 

"  Goe, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  Goe,  help  thy  Mother  with  her 
"  clear-ftarching.  Be  happy  whilft 
"  thou  art  here." 

But  ah!  more  ealily  faid  than 
done.  "Alle  Joy  is  darkened;  the 
"Mirthe  of  the  Land  is  gone!" 

At  Squire  Pake's  grand  Dinner 
we  have  been  counting  on  foe  many 
Days;  but  it  gave  me  not  the  Plea- 
fure  expected. 

The  Weather  is  foe  foul  that  I 
am  fure  Mr.  Milton  woulde  not  like 
me  to  be  on  the  Road,  even  would 
my  Father  let  me  goe. 

— While  writing  the  above,  heard 
very  angrie  Voices  in  the  Court- 
yard, my  Father's  efpeciallie,  louder 
than  common ;  and  diftinguifhed 
the  Words  "  Knave,"  and  "  Varlet," 
and  "  begone."  Lookt  from  my 
Window  and  beheld  a  Man,  booted 

and 


125 


1643. 


Michael- 
masse  Day. 


Oct.  13. 


126 


1643. 


Maide7i  &  Married  Life 


and  cloaked,  with  two  Horfes,  at 
the  Gate,  parleying  with  my  Father, 
who  flood  in  an  offenlive  Attitude, 
and  woulde  not  let  him  in.  I  could 
catch  fuch  Fragments  as,  "  But 
"Sir?"  "What!  in  fuch  Weather 
"  as  this  ?  "  "  Nay,  it  had  not  over- 
"caft    when    I    ftarted."     " 'Tis    foul 


a 


a 


enough 


now,    then."       "  Let    me 


but  have  fpeech  of  my  Miflrefs." 
"  You  crofTe  not  my  Threfhold." 
"  Nay,  Sir,  if  but  to  give  her  this 
"Letter:" — and  turning  his  Head, 
I  was  avifed  of  its  being  Hubert,  old 
Mr.  Milton^ s  Man;  doubtlefs  fent 
by  my  Hufband  to  fetch  me.  Seeing 
my  Father  raife  his  Hand  in  angrie 
A6tion  (his  Riding-whip  being  in 
it),  I  hafled  down  as  fail  as  I  coulde, 
to  prevent  Mifchiefe,  as  well  as  to 
get  my  Letter;  but,  unhappilie,  not 
foe  fleetlie  as  to  fee  more  than 
Huberfs  flying  Skirts  as  he  gallopped 

from 


of  Mary  Powell. 


from  the  Gate,  with  the  led  Horfe 
by  the  Bridle;  while  my  Father, 
flinging  downe  the  torne  Letter, 
walked  pafllonatelie  away.  I  clafped 
my  Hands,  and  flood  mazed  for  a 
While, — was  then  avifed  to  piece 
the  Letter,  but  could  not;  onlie 
making  out  fuch  Words  as  "  Sweet 
''Moll,''  in  my  Hufband's  Writing. 

Ro/e  came  this  Morning,  through 
Rain  and  Mire,  at  fome  Rifk  as  well 
as  much  Inconvenience,  to  intreat  of 
me,  even  with  Teares,  not  to  vex 
Mr.  Milton  by  anie  farther  Delays, 
but  to  return  to  him  as  foon  as  pof- 
fible.  Kind  Soule,  her  Afle6tion 
toucht  me,  and  I  alfured  her  the 
more  readilie  I  intended  to  return 
Home  as  foone  as  I  coulde,  which 
was  not  yet,  my  Father  having 
taken  the  Matter  into  his  own 
Hands,     and      permitting      me      noe 

Efcort; 


127 


1643. 


Oct.  14. 


128  Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643.  Efcort;  but  that  I  queftioned  not, 
Mr.  Milton  was  onlie  awaiting  the 
Weather  to  fettle,  to  fetch  me  him- 
felf.  That  he  will  doe  fo,  is  my 
firm  Perfualion.  Meanwhile,  I 
make  it  my  Duty  to  joyn  with  fome 
Attempt  at  CheerfuUenefTe  in  the 
Amufements  of  others,  to  make  my 
Father's  Confinement  to  the  Houfe 
lefs  irkfome;  and  have  in  fome 
Meafure  fucceeded. 


Oct.  23.  Noe  Sighte  nor  Tidings  of  Mr. 
Milton. — I  am  uneafie,  frighted  at 
myfelf,  and  wifh  I  had  never  left 
him,  yet  hurte  at  the  Negledt. 
Hubert,  being  a  crabbed  Temper, 
made  Mifchief  on  his  Return,  I 
fancy.  Father  is  vexed,  methinks, 
at  his  owne  Paffion,  and  hath  never, 
dire6tlie,  fpoken,  in  my  Hear- 
inge,  of  what  paffed;  but  rayleth 
continuallie      agaynft      Rebels      and 

Roundheads. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Roundheads.       As     to    Mother, — ah 
me  ! 

Thro'   dank   and    miry    Lanes   and 
Bye-roads  with  Robin,  to  Shecpfcotc. 

Waiting  for  Rofe  in  Mr.  Agneiu's 
fmall  Studdy,  where  fhe  moftlie 
fitteth  with  him,  oft  a6ling  as  his 
Amanuenfis,  was  avifed  to  take  up 
a  printed  Sheet  of  Paper  that  lay  on 
the  Table ;  but  finding  it  to  be  of 
Latin  Verfing,  was  about  to  laye  it 
downe  agayn,  when  Rofe  came  in. 
She  changed  Colour,  and  in  a  falter- 
ing Voice  fayd,  "  Ah,  Cojifin,  do 
"  you  know  what  that  is  ?  One  of 
"  your  Hufband's  Proofe  Sheets.  I 
"  woulde  that  it  coulde  interefb  you 
"  in  like  Manner  as  it  hath  me." 
Made  her  noe  Anfwer,  laying  it  alide 
unconcernedlie,  but  fecretlie  felt,  as 
I  have  oft  done  before,  how  flupid 
it  is  not  to  know  Latin,  and  refolved 
K  to 


129 


1643- 


Oct.  24. 


I30 


1643. 


Oct.  28. 


Oct.  31. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

to  get  Robin  to  teach  me.  He  is  no 
greate  Scholar  himfelfe,  foe  will  not 
fhame  me. — I  am  wearie  of  hearing 
of  War  and  Politicks  ;  foe  will  try 
Studdy  for  a  While,  and  fee  if  'twill 
cure  this  dull  Payn  at  my  Heart. 

Robin  and  I  have  fliut  ourfelves 
up  for  three  Hours  dailie,  in  the 
fmall  Book-room,  and  have  made 
fayre  Progreffe.  He  liketh  his 
Office  of  Tutor  mightilie. 

My  LefTons  are  more  crabbed,  or 
I  am  more  dull  and  inattentive,  for 
I  cannot  fix  my  Minde  on  my  Book, 
and  am  fecretlie  wearie.  Robin 
wearies  too.  But  I  will  not  give 
up  as  yet;  the  more  foe  as  in  this 
quiete  Studdy  I  am  out  of  Sighte 
and  Hearinge  of  fundrie  young 
Officers  Dick  is  continuallie  bringing 
over  from  Oxford^  who  fpend  manie 

Hours 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Hours  with  him  in  Countrie  Sports, 
and  then  come  into  the  Houfe,  hun- 
gry, thirftie,  noilie,  and  idle.  I  know 
Mr.  Milton  woulde  not  like  them. 

— Surelie  he  will  come  foone? — 
I  fayd  to  Father  laft  Night,  I  wanted 
to  hear  from  Home.  He  fayd, 
"  Home!  Doft  call  yon  Taylor's 
"Shop  your  Home?"  foe  ironicalle 
that  I  was  fhamed  to  fay  more. 

Woulde  that  I  had  never  married! 
— then  coulde  I  enjoy  my  Child- 
hoode's  Home.  Yet  I  knew  not  its 
Value  before  I  quitted  it,  and  had 
even  a  ftupid  Pleafure  in  anticipating 
another.  Ah  me!  had  I  loved  Mr. 
Milton  more,  perhaps  I  might  better 
have  endured  the  Taylor's  Shop. 

Sheep/cote,  Nov.  20. 

Annoyed    by    DiclSs    Companions, 

I  prayed  Father  to  let  me  ftay  awhile 

with  Rofe;    and  gaining  his   Confent, 

came 


131 


1643- 


Nov.  20. 


132  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  came  over  here  Yefter-morn,  with- 
out thinking  it  needfuUe  to  fend 
Notice,  which  was  perhaps  incon- 
fiderate.  But  fhe  received  me  with 
Kiffes  and  Words  of  TendernelTe, 
though  lefs  SmiHng  than  ufualle, 
and  eagerHe  accepted  mine  offered 
Vifitt.  Then  fhe  ran  off  to  find 
Roger,  and  I  heard  them  talking 
earneftlie  in  a  low  Voice  before  they 
came  in.  His  Face  was  grave,  even 
flern,  when  he  entred,  but  he  held 
out  his  Hand,  and  fayd,  "  Miflrefs 
"  Aliltouy  you  are  welcome !  how  is 
"  it  with  you  ?  and  how  was  Mr. 
"  Milton  when  he  wrote  to  you 
"lafl?"  I  anfwered  briefiie,  he  was 
well:  then  came  a  Silence,  and  then 
Rofe  took  me  to  my  Chamber,  which 
was  fweet  with  Lavender,  and  its 
Hangings  of  the  whitefl.  It  reminded 
me  too  much  of  my  firfl  Week  of 
Marriage,    foe     I    refolved    to    think 

not 


of  Mary  Powell. 


not  at  all  left  I  fhoulde  be  bad 
Companie,  but  cheer  up  and  be 
gay.  Soe  I  afkt  Rofe  a  thoufand 
Queftions  about  her  Dairie  and  Bees, 
laught  much  at  Dinner,  and  told 
Mr.  Agnew  fundrie  of  the  merrie 
Sayings  of  Dick  and  his  Oxford 
Friends.  And,  for  my  Reward,  when 
we  were  afterwards  apart,  I  heard 
him  tell  Rofe  (by  Reafon  of  the  Walls 
being  thin)  that  however  fhe  might 
regard  me  for  old  Affe6lion's  Sake, 
he  thought  he  had  never  knowne 
foe  unpromifing  a  Chara6ler.  This 
made  me  dulle  enoughe  all  the  reft 
of  the  Evening,  and  repent  having 
come  to  Sheepfcote:  however,  he 
liked  me  the  better  for  being  quiete: 
and  Rofe^  being  equallie  chekt,  we 
fewed  in  Silence  while  he  read  to 
us  the  firft  Divifion  of  Spencer^s 
Legend  of  Holineffe^  about  Una  and 
the   Knight,   and   how  they  got  fun- 

dered 


1643. 


134  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  dered.  This  led  to  much  ferious, 
yet  not  unpleafing,  Difcourfe,  which 
lafted  till  Supper.  For  the  firft 
Time  at  Sheep/cote,  I  coulde  not  eat, 
which  Mr.  Agnew  obferving,  prell 
me  to  take  Wine,  and  Rofe  woulde 
ftart  up  to  fetch  fome  of  her  Pre- 
ferves;  but  I  chekt  her  with  a 
Motion,  not  being  quite  able  to 
fpeak;  for  their  being  foe  kind  made 
the  Teares  ready  to  ftarte,  I  knew 
not  why. 

Family  Prayers,  after  Supper, 
rather  too  long;  yet  though  I  coulde 
not  keep  up  my  Attention,  they 
feemed  to  fpread  a  Calm  and  a 
Peace  alle  about,  that  extended  even 
to  me;  and  though,  after  I  had 
undrefled,  I  fat  a  long  While  in  a 
Maze,  and  bethought  me  how  pi- 
teous a  Creature  I  was,  yet,  once 
layed  down,  I  never  fank  into  deeper, 
more  compoling  Sleep. 

This 


of  Mary  Powell. 


This  Morning,  Rofe  exclaimed, 
"Dear  Roo-erf  onlie  think!  Moll 
"  has  begun  to  learn  Latin  fince  fhe 
"  returned  to  Forcjl  Hill,  thinking 
"  to  furprife  Mr.  Milton  when  they 
"  meet."  "  She  will  not  onlie  fur- 
"  prife,  but  pleafe  him,"  returned 
dear  Roger,  taking  my  Hand  very 
kindlie;  "  I  can  onlie  fay,  I  hope 
"  they  will  meet  long  before  fhe 
"  can  read  his  Poemata,  unlefs  fhe 
"  learnes  much  fafler  than  moft 
"  People."  I  replied,  I  learned 
very  flowly,  and  wearied  Robiii's 
Patience;  on  which  Ro/e,  killing 
me,  cried,  "  You  will  never  wearie 
"mine;  foe,  if  you  pleafe,  deare 
"  Moll,  we  will  goe  to  our  LelTons 
"  here  everie  Morning,  and  it  may 
"  be  that  I  fhall  get  you  through 
"  the  Grammar  fafter  than  Robin 
"  can.  If  we  come  to  anie  Dif^- 
"  cultie  we  fhall  refer  it  to  RogerP 

Now, 


135 
1643. 

Nov.  21. 


136  Afaiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  Now,  Mr.  Agnezv's  Looks  expreft 

fuch  Pleafure  with  both,  that  it 
were  difficult  to  tell  which  felt  the 
moll  elated;  foe  calling  me  deare 
Moll  (he  hath  hitherto  Miftrefs 
Miltoned  me  ever  lince  I  fett  Foot 
in  his  Houfe),  he  fayed  he  would 
not  interrupt  our  Studdies,  though 
he  fhould  be  within  Call,  and  foe 
left  us.  I  had  not  felt  foe  happy 
fince  Father'' s  Birthday;  and,  though 
Rofe  kept  me  clofe  to  my  Book  for 
two  Hours,  I  found  her  a  far  lefs 
irkfome  Tutor  than  deare  Robin. 
Then  fhe  went  away,  finging,  to 
make  Roger''s  favourite  Difh,  and 
afterwards  we  tooke  a  briik  Walke, 
and  came  Home  hungrie  enoughe  to 
Dinner. 

There  is  a  daily  Beauty  in  Rofe^s 
Life,  that  I  not  onlie  admire,  but 
am  readie  to  envy.  Oh!  if  Milton 
lived    but    in    the    poorefl    Houfe    in 

the 


of  Mary  Powell. 


the  Countrie,  methinks   I  coulde   be 
very  happy  with  him. 

Chancinof  to  make  the  above 
Remark  to  Rofc^  fhe  cried,  "  And 
why  not  be  happy  with  him  in 
Alder/gate  Street?''''  I  briefly  re- 
plied that  he  mufl  get  the  Houfe 
firft,  before  it  were  poflible  to  tell 
whether  I  coulde  be  happy  there  or 
not.  Rofe  fl:ared,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Why,  where  do  you  fuppofe  him 
to    be    now  ? "      "  Where    but    at 


ii. 


a 


a 


a 


a 


the  Taylor's  in  Bride^s  Church- 
yard V  I  replied.  She  clafpt  her 
Hands  with  a  Look  I  fhall  never 
forget,  and  exclaimed  in  a  Sort  of 
vehement  Paflion,  "  Oh,  Coiijin., 
"  Coujifiy  how  you  throw  your  own 
"  Happineffe  away  !  How  awfulle 
"  a  Paufe  muft  have  taken  place  in 
"  your  Intercourfe  with  the  Man 
"  whom    you    promifed    to   abide    by 

"  till 


137 


1643. 


Bedtime. 


138  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1643.  "  till  Death,  lince  you  know  not 
"  that  he-  has  long  lince  taken  Pof- 
"  feffion  of  his  new  Home  ;  that  he 
"  ftrove  to  have  it  ready  for  you  at 
"  MickaelmaJ/e  !  " 

Doubtleffe    I    lookt    noe    lefs    fur- 

prifed  than   I  felt ; — a  fuddain   Prick 

at     the     Heart     prevented     Speech ; 

but  it  fhot  acroffe   my   Heart  that   I 

had   made   out   the  Words   "  Alderf- 

''■  gate^''    and    "new    Home,"    in     the 

Fragments  of  the  Letter  my  Father 

had     torn.       Ro/e,     mif judging     my 

Silence,  burft  forth  anew  with,  "  Oh, 

'  Coujin  !  Coujifi !  coulde  anie  Home, 

'  however  dull  and  noifefome,  drive 

'  me    from    Roger  Agnew  ?      Onlie 

'  think   of  what  you   are   doing, — of 

'  what   you    are    leaving   undone  ! — 

'  of  what  you  are   preparing  againft 

'yourfelf!       To    put    the    Wicked- 

'  neffe  of  a  felfifh  Courfe  out  of  the 

'  Account,  onlie  think  of  its  Mellan- 

"  cholie. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  cholie,  its  Miferie, — deflitute  of 
"  alle  the  fweet,  bright,  frefh  Well- 
"  fprings  of  Happineffe; — unbleft 
"by  Godr 

Here  Rofe  wept  paflionatelie,  and 
clafpt  her  Arms  about  me;  but, 
when  I  began  to  fpeak,  and  to  tell 
her  of  much  that  had  made  me 
miferable,  fhe  hearkened  in  motion- 
leffe  Silence,  till  I  told  her  that 
Father  had  torn  the  Letter  and  beaten 
the  Meffenger.  Then  fhe  cried, 
"  Oh,  I  fee  now  what  may  and  fhall 
"  be  done !  Roger  fhall  be  Peace- 
"  maker,"  and  ran  off  with  Joyful- 
neffe;  I  not  withholding  her.  But 
I  can  never  be  joyfulle  more — he 
cannot  be  Day's-man  betwixt  us 
now — 'tis  alle  too  late! 


Now  that  I  am  at  Forejl  Hill 
agayn,  I  will  effay  to  continue  my 
Journalling. — 

Mr. 


139 


1643- 


Nov.  28. 


140 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Mr.  Agnew  was  out;  and  though 
a  keene  wintry  Wind  was  blowing, 
and  Rofe  was  fuffering  from  Colde, 
yet  Ihe  went  out  to  liften  for  his 
Horfe's  Feet  at  the  Gate,  with  onlie 
her  Apron  caft  over  her  Head. 
Shortlie,  he  returned;  and  I  heard 
him  fay  in  a  troubled  Voice,  "  Alle 
"  are  in  Arms  at  Forejl  HilW  I 
felt  foe  greatlie  fhocked  as  to  neede 
to  fit  downe  inftead  of  running  forthe 
to  learn  the  News.  I  fuppofed  the 
parliamentarian  Soldiers  had  ad- 
vanced, unexpe6ledlie,  upon  Oxford. 
His  next  Words  were,  ''•Dick  is 
"  coming  for  her  at  Noone — poor 
"  Soul,  I  know  not  what  fhe  will 
"  doe — her  Father  will  truft  her 
"  noe  longer  with  you  and  me." 
Then  I  faw  them  both  palTe  the 
Window,  flowlie  pacing  together, 
and  haftened  forth  to  joyn  them; 
but  they  had  turned  into  the  pleached 

Alley, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Alley,  their  Backs  towards  me;  and 
both  in  fuch  earneft  and  apparentlie 
private  Communication,  that  I  dared 
not  interrupt  them  till  they  turned 
aboute,  which  was  not  for  fome 
While;  for  they  flood  for  fome 
Time  at  the  Head  of  the  Alley,  flill 
with  theire  Backs  to  me,  Rofe's  Hair 
blowing  in  the  cold  Wind;  and 
once  or  twice  fhe  feemed  to  put 
her  kerchief  to  her  Eyes. 

Now,  while  I  ftood  mazed  and 
uncertain,  I  hearde  a  diftant  Clatter 
of  Horfe's  Feet,  on  the  hard  Road 
a  good  Way  off,  and  could  defcrie 
Dick  coming  towards  Shecpfcotc. 
Rofe  faw  him  too,  and  commenced 
running  towards  me;  Mr.  Agnew 
following  with  long  Strides.  Rofe 
drew  me  back  into  the  Houfe,  and 
fayd,  kiffing  me,  "  Deareft  Moll^  I 
"am  foe  forry;  Roger  hath  feen 
"  your    Father    this     Morn,     and    he 

"will 


141 


1643. 


142 


1643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

"  will  on  no  Account  fpare  you  to 
"  us  anie  longer;  and  Dick  is  coming 
"  to  fetch  you  even  now."  I  layd, 
"Is  Father  ill?"  "Oh  no,"  replied 
Mr.  Agneiv;  then  coming  up,  "  He 
"  is  not  ill,  but  he  is  perturbed  at 
"  fomething  which  has  occurred; 
"  and,  in  Truth,  foe  am  I. — But 
"  remember,  Miftrefs  Milton^  re- 
"  member,  dear  Coiifin^  that  when 
"  you  married,  your  Father'' s  Guar- 
"  dianfhip  of  you  palTed  into  the 
"  Hands  of  your  Hufband — your 
"  Hufband's  Houfe  was  thenceforthe 
"your  Home;  and  in  quitting  it 
"  you  committed  a  Fault  you  may 
"  yet  repaire,  though  this  ofFenlive 
"  A61  has  made  the  Difficultie  much 
"greater." — "Oh,  what  has  hap- 
"  pened  ? "  I  impatientlie  cried. 
Juft  then,  Dick  comes  in  with  his 
ufual  blunt  Salutations,  and  then 
cries,    "  Well,   Moll,    are   you   ready 

"to 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"to  goe  back?"  "Why  fhould  I 
"be?"  I  layd,  "when  I  am  foe 
"happy  here?  unlels  FatJicr  is  ill, 
"  or  Mr.  Agnew  and  Rofe  are  tired 
"  of  me."  They  both  interrupted, 
there  was  Nothing  they  foe  much 
defired,  at  this  prefent,  as  that  I 
fhoulde  prolong  my  Stay.  And  you 
know,  Dick^  I  added,  that  Forejt 
Hill  is  not  foe  pleafant  to  me  juft 
now  as  it  hath  commonlie  beene,  by 
Reafon  of  your  Oxford  Companions. 
He  brieflie  fayd,  I  neede  not  mind 
that,  they  were  coming  no  more  to 
the  Houfe,  Father  had  decreed  it. 
And  you  know  w^ell  enough,  AIoll^ 
that  what  Father  decrees,  muft  be, 
and  he  hath  decreed  that  you  mufl 
come  Home  now;  foe  no  more 
Ado,  I  pray  you,  but  fetch  your 
Cloak  and  Hood,  and  the  Horfes 
fhall   come   round,   for   'twill   be  late 


ere    we    reach     Home,     "  Na}',    you 


a 


m 


uft 


143 


1643. 


144 
1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

"  muft  dine  here  at  all  Events," 
fayd  Rofe;  "  I  know,  Dick,  you  love 
"roall  Pork."  Soe  Dick  relented. 
Soe  Rofe,  turning  to  me,  prayed  me 
to  bid  Cicely  haften  Dinner;  the 
which  I  did,  tho'  thinking  it  ftrange 
Rofe  fhould  not  goe  herfelf.  But,  as 
I  returned,  I  hearde  her  fay.  Not  a 
Word  of  it,  dear  Dick,  at  the  leaft, 
till  after  Dinner,  left  you  fpoil  her 
Appetite.  Soe  Dick  fayd  he  fhoulde 
goe  and  look  after  the  Horfes.  I 
fayd  then,  brilklie,  I  fee  fomewhat 
is  the  Matter — pray  tell  me  what  it 
is.  But  Rofe  looked  quite  dull,  and 
walked  to  the  Window.  Then  Mr. 
Agnew  fayd,  "  You  feem  as  difla- 
"  tisfied  to  leave  us,  Cotfin,  as  we 
"are  to  lofe  you;  and  yet  you  are 
"  going  back  to  Forefl  Hill — to  that 
"  Home  in  which  you  will  doubt- 
"  leife  be  happy  to  live  all  your 
"Dayes."— "At    Forefl    Hill?''       I 

fayd. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


fayd,  "  Oh  no  !    I  hope  not."     "  And 

"  why  ?  "    fayd   he   quicklie.     I   hung 

my   Head,   and    muttered,    "  I    hope, 

'  fome    Daye,    to    goe    back   to    Mr. 

'  MiltonP        "  And      why      not      at 

'  once  ?  "  fayd   he.     I   fayd,  "  Father 

'  would    not    let    me."       "  Nay,   that 

'  is    Childifh,"    he    anfwered,    "  your 

'  Father    could     not    hinder    3/ou    if 

'  you  wanted   not   the   Mind   to   goe 

'  — it    was    your    firft    feeming    foe 

'  loth     to     return,    that     made     him 

'  think   you   unhappie   and   refufe   to 

part    with    you."       I    fayd,    "  And 

'  what    if  I   were   unhappie  ?  "      He 

paufed;  and  knew  not  at  the  Moment 

what   Anfwer   to   make,   but   fhortlie 

replyed  by  another  Queftion,  "  What 

"  Caufe  had  you  to  be  foe  .^"     I  fayd, 

"  That    was     more     eafily    afkt    than 

"  anfwered,  even   if  there   were  anie 

"  Neede   I   fhoulde   anfwer   it,  or   he 

"  had  anie  Right  to  afk  it."     He  cried 

^  in 


H5 


1643. 


146 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1643. 


in  an  Accent  of  Tenderneffe  that 
flill  wrings  my  Heart  to  remember, 
"  Oh,  quellion  not  the  Right  !  I 
"  only  wifh  to  make  you  happy. 
"  Were  you  not  happy  with  Mr. 
"  Milton  during  the  Week  you  fpent 
"  together  here  at  Sheep/cote  ? " 
Thereat  I  coulde  not  refrayn  from 
burfting  into  Tears.  Rofe  now 
fprang  forward ;  but  Mr.  Agnew 
fayd,  "  Let  her  weep,  let  her  weep, 
"  it  will  do  her  good."  Then,  alle 
at  once  it  occurred  to  me  that  my 
Hufband  was  awaiting  me  at  Home, 
and  I  cried,  "  Oh,  is  Mr.  Milton  at 
''  Forejl  HillV  and  felt  my  Heart 
full  of  Gladnefs.  Mr.  Agnew  an- 
fwered,  "  Not  foe,  not  foe,  poor 
^^  Moll:''''  and,  looking  up  at  him, 
I  faw  him  wiping  his  Brow,  though 
the  Daye  was  foe  chill.  "  As  well 
"tell  her  now,"  fayd  he  to  Rofe; 
and    then    taking    my    Hand,    "  Oh, 

"  Mrs. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


'  Mrs.  Milton^  can  you  wonder  that 

'your     Hufband    fhould    be    angry? 

'  How  can  you  wonder  at  anie  Evil 

'  that  may  refult  from  the  Provoca- 

'  tion  you  have  given  him  ?      What 

'  Marvell,    that   lince    you    caft    him 

'  off,    all    the     fweet    Fountains     of 

'  his  Affe6lions  would  be  embittered, 

'  and    that    he    fhould    retaliate    by 

'  feeking    a    Separation,   and   even   a 

'Divorce?" — There      I      ftopt      him 

with      an     Outcry     of    "  Divorce  ? " 

Even     foe,"     he     moft    mournfully 

replyd,  "  and  I  feeke    not    to    excufe 

'  him,    fmce   two   Wrongs   make   not 

'a    Right."       "But,"    I    cried,    paf- 

lionately    weeping,     "  I    have     given 

him    noe    Caufe;     my     Heart    has 

never    for    a    Moment    ftrayed    to 

another,    nor    does    he,   I   am   fure, 

expe6t     it."      "Ne'ertheleffe,"     en- 

joyned     Mr.     Agnew,     "  he     is     foe 

"  aggrieved  and  chafed,  that  he  has 

"  followed 


147 


1643. 


148 


i643- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 
"  followed     up    what     he     confiders 


(.(. 


a 


a 


your  Breach  of  the  Marriage 
"  Contra6t  by  writing  and  publifhing 
"  a  Book  on  Divorce;  the  Tenor 
"  of  which  coming  to  your  Father's 
"  Ears,   has    violently    incenfed    him. 

And  now,  dear  Coiijin^  having,  by 
'  your    Waywardnefs,     kindled    this 

Flame,  what  remains  for  you  but 
"  to — nay,  hear  me,  hear  me,  Moll^ 
"  for  Dick  is  coming  in,  and  I  may 
"  not  let  him  hear  me  urge  you  to 
"  the  onlie  Courfe  that  can  regayn 
"  your  Peace — Mr.  Milto7t  is  ftill 
"  your  Hufband  \  cache  of  you  have 
"  now  Something  to  forgive ;  do 
"  you  be  the  firfte  ;  nay,  feeke  his 
"  Forgiveneffe,  and  you  fhall  be 
"  happier  than  3^ou   have   been  yet." 

— But  I  was  weeping  without 
Controule ;  and  Dick  coming  in, 
and  with  Dick  the  Dinner,  I  afkt 
to   be   excufed,   and   foe   foughte   my 

Chamber, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Chamber,  to  weep  there  without 
Reftraynt  or  Witnefle.  Poor  Rofe 
came  up,  as  foone  as  fhe  coulde  leave 
the  Table,  and  told  me  fhe  had 
eaten  as  little  as  I,  and  woulde  not 
even  preffe  me  to  eat.  But  fhe 
careft  me  and  comforted  me,  and 
urged  in  her  owne  tender  Way  alle 
that  had  beene  fayd  by  Mr.  Agnew; 
even  protefling  that  if  fhe  were  in 
my  Place,  fhe  woulde  not  goe  back 
to  Forejl  Hi/l,  but  ftraight  to  London, 
to  entreat  with  Mr.  Milton  for  his 
Mercy.  But  I  told  her  I  could  not 
do  that,  even  had  I  the  Means  for 
the  Journey;  for  that  my  Heart 
was  turned  againft  the  Man  who 
coulde,  for  the  venial  Offence  of  a 
young  Wife,  in  abiding  too  long 
with  her  old  Father,  not  onlie  cafl 
her  off  from  his  Love,  but  hold  her 
up  to  the  World's  Blame  and  Scorn, 
by    making   their    domeflic    Quarrel 

the 


149 


1643. 


I50 


1643. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

the  Matter  for  a  printed  Attack. 
Rofe  fayd,  "  I  admit  he  is  wrong, 
"  but  indeed,  indeed,  Moll,  you  are 
"  wrong  too,  and  you  were  wrong 
"y^^-""  ^f^d  fhe  fayd  this  foe  often, 
that  at  length  we  came  to  croffer 
Words;  when  Dick,  calling  to  me 
from  below,  would  have  me  make 
hafte,  which  I  was  glad  to  doe,  and 
left  Shccpfcotc  lefs  regrettfullie  than 
I  had  expe6led.  Rofe  kift  me  with 
her  graveft  Face.  Mr.  Agnezo  put 
me  on  my  Horfe,  and  fayd,  as  he 
gave  me  the  Rein,  "Now  think! 
"now  think!  even  yet!"  and  then, 
as  I  filently  rode  off,  "  God  blefs 
"  you." 

I  held  down  my  Head;  but,  at 
the  Turn  of  the  Road,  lookt  back, 
and  faw  him  and  Rofe  watching  us 
from  the  Porch.  Dick  cried,  "  I 
"  am  righte  glad  we  are  off  at  laft, 
"  for    Father     is     downright     crazie 

"  aboute 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  aboute  this  Bufineffe,  and  miftruft- 
"  fulle  of  AgiieiJus  Influence  over 
"you," — and  would  have  gone  on 
railing,  but  I  bade  him  for  Pitie's 
Sake  be  quiete. 

The  Effe6ls  of  my  owne  FoUie, 
the  Loffe  of  Home,  Hufband,  Name, 
the  Opinion  of  the  Agiiczus^  the 
Opinion  of  the  Worlde,  rofe  up 
agaynfl  me,  and  almoft  drove  me 
mad.  And,  juft  as  I  was  thinking 
I  had  better  lived  out  my  Dayes  and 
dyed  earlie  in  Brides  CJmrchyarde 
than  that  allc  this  fhould  have  come 
about,  the  fuddain  Recollection  of 
what  Rofe  had  that  Morning  tolde 
me,  which  foe  manie  other  Thoughts 
had  driven  out  of  my  Head,  viz. 
that  Mr.  Milton  had,  in'  his  Defire 
to  pleafe  me,  while  I  was  onlie  bent 
on  pleafing  myfclf,  been  fecretly 
ftriving  to  make  readie  the  Aldcrfgate 
Street   Houfe   agaynfl  my  Return, — 

foe 


151 


1643. 


152 


1643. 


1644. 

March  25. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

foe  overcame  me,  that  I  wept  as  I 
rode  along.  Nay,  at  the  Corner  of 
a  branch  Road,  had  a  Mind  to  beg 
Dick  to  let  me  goe  to  London  ;  but 
a  Glance  at  his  dogged  Countenance 
fufficed  to  forefhovv  my  Anfwer. 

Half  dead  with  Fatigue  and  Griefe 
when  I  reached  Home,  the  tender 
Embraces  of  my  Father  and  Mother 
completed  the  Overthrowe  of  my 
Spiritts.  I  tooke  to  my  Bed ;  and 
this  is  the  firft  Daye  I  have  left  it  \ 
nor  will  they  let  me  fend  for  Rofe, 
nor  even  tell  her  I  am  ill. 

The  new  Year  opens  drearilie,  on 
Affairs  both  publick  and  private. 
The  Loaf  parted  at  Breakfaft  this 
Morning,  which,  as  the  Saying  goes, 
is  a  Sign  of  Separation  ;  but  Mothen 
onlie  fayd  'twas  becaufe  it  was  badly 
kneaded,    and    chid    Margery.       She 

me,    but    now, 
how 


hath    beene 


telling 


of  Mary  Powell. 


how  I  mighte  have  'fcaped  all  my 
Troubles,  and  feene  as  much  as  I 
woulde  of  her  and  Father^  and  yet 
have  contented  Mr.  Milton  and  beene 
counted  a  good  Wife.  Noe  Advice 
foe  ill  to  bear  as  that  which  comes 
too  late. 

I  am  fick  of  this  journalling,  foe 
fhall  onlie  put  downe  the  Date  of 
Robin's  leaving  Home.  Lord  have 
Mercy  on  him,  and  keepe  him  in 
Safetie.  This  is  a  fhorte  Prayer ; 
therefore,  eafier  to  be  often  re- 
peated. When  he  kiffed  me,  he 
whifpered,  "  Moll^  pray  for  me." 

Father  does  not  feeme  to  mifs 
Robin  much,  tho'  he  dailie  drinks 
his  Health  after  that  of  the  King. 
Perhaps  he  did  not  mifs  me  anie 
more  when  I  was  in  London,  though 
it  was   true   and   naturall   enough   he 

fhould 


153 

1644. 


29th. 


154 

i644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

fhoLild  like  to  fee  me  agayn.  We 
lliould  have  beene  ufcd  to  our  Sepa- 
ration by  this  Time ;  there  would 
have    beene    Nothino:    corroding    in 

it 

I  pray  for  Robin  everie  Night. 
Since  he  went,  the  Houfe  has  loft 
its  Sunihine.  When  I  was  foe 
anxious  to  return  to  Foreji  Hill,  I 
never  counted  on  his  leaving'  it. 

Oh  me,  what  would  I  give  to  fee 
the  Skirts  of  Mr.  Milion's  Garments 
agayn  !  My  Heart  is  fick  unto 
Death.  I  have  been  reading  fome 
of  my  yournall,  and  tearing  out 
much  childifh  Nonfenfe  at  the 
Beginning ;  but  coulde  not  deftroy 
the  painfulle  Records  of  the  laft 
Year.  How  unhappy  a  Creature 
am  I  ! — wearie,  wearie  of  vc\y  Life, 
yet  no  Ways  inclined  for  Death. 
Lord,  have  Mercy  upon  me. 

I 


of  Mary  Powell. 


I  fpend  much  of  my  Time,  now, 
in  the  Book-room,  and,  though  I 
efTay  not  to  purfue  the  Latin,  I  read 
much  EngliJJi,  at  the  leaft,  more 
than  ever  I  did  in  my  Life  before ; 
but  often  I  fancy  I  am  reading  when 
I  am  onlie  dreaming.  Oxford  is  far 
too  gay  a  Place  for  me  now  ever  to 
goe  neare  it,  but  my  Brothers  are 
much  there,  and  Fathci'  in  his  Farm, 
and  Mother  in  her  Kitchen ;  and 
the  Neighbours,  when  they  call, 
look  on  me  flrangelie,  fo  that  I 
have  noe  Love  for  them.  How 
different  is  Rofs  holy,  fecluded,  yet 
cheerefuUe  Life^at  Sheepfcote !     She 


hath  a  N'urferie  now,  foe  cannot 
come  to  me,  and  Father  likes  not 
I  fhould  goe  to  her. 

They  fay  their  Majefl;3^es'  Parting 
at  Abi7igdon  was  very  forrowfulle 
and    tender.     The    Lord  fend    them 

better 


155 
1644. 

April  3. 


5th. 


iS6 


1644. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

better  Times  !  The  Qiieen  is  to 
my  Mind  a  moft  charming  Lady, 
and  well  worthy  of  his  Majefty's 
Affe6lion  ;  yet  it  feems  to  me  amiffe, 
that  thro'  her  Influence,  lafl;  Sum- 
mer, the  Opportunitie  of  Pacifica- 
tion was  lofl;.  But  flie  was  elated, 
and  naturallie  enoughe,  at  her  per- 
fonall  Succefles  from  the  Time  of 
her  landing.  To  me,  there  feems 
Nothing  foe  good  as  Peace.  I  know, 
indeede,  Mr.  Milton  holds  that  there 
may  be  fuch  Things  as  a  holy  War 
and  a  curfed  Peace. 


April  10.  Father^  having  a  Hoarfenefs,  hath 
deputed  me,  of  late,  to  read  the 
Morning  and  Evening  Prayers. 
How  beautifulle  is  our  Liturgie  ! 
I  grudge  at  the  Puritans  for  having 
abolifhed  it ;  and  though  I  felt  not 
its  comprehenfive  Fullnefle  before 
I    married,   nor   indeed   till   now,  yet 

I 


of  Mary  Powell. 


I  wearied  to  Death  in  London  at 
the  puritanicall  Ordinances  and 
Confcience-meetings  and  extempore 
Prayers,  wherein  it  was  foe  oft  the 
Speaker's  Care  to  fliow  Men  how 
godly  he  was.  Nay,  I  think  Mr. 
Milton  altogether  wrong  in  the  View 
he  takes  of  praying  to  God  in  other 
Men's  Words  ;  for  doth  he  not  doe 
foe,  everie  Time  he  followeth  the 
Senfe  of  another  Man's  extempore 
Prayer,  wherein  he  is  more  at  his 
Mercy  and  Caprice  than  when  he 
hath  a  printed  Form  fet  down, 
wherein  he  fees  what  is  coming  ? 

Walking:  in  the  Home-clofe  this 
Morning,  it  occurred  to  me  that 
Mr.  Milton  intended  bringing  me  to 
Forejl  Hill  about  this  Time ;  and 
that  if  I  had  abided  patientlie  with 
him  through  the  Winter,  we  might 
now   have    beene   both   here   happily 

together ; 


157 


1644. 


June  8. 


iS8 


1644. 


June  23. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

together ;  untroubled  by  that  Sting 
which  now  poifons  everie  Enjoyment 
of  mine,  and  perhaps  of  his.  Lord, 
be  merciful  to  me  a  Sinner. 

Juft  after  writing  the  above,  I 
was  in  the  Garden,  gathering  a  few 
Coronation  Flowers  and  Sops-in- 
Wine,  and  thinking  they  were  of 
deeper  Crimfon  at  Sheep/cote,  and 
wondering  what  Rofe  was  juft  then 
about,  and  whether  had  I  beene 
born  in  her  Place,  I  fhoulde  have 
beene  as  goode  and  happy  as  fhe, — 
when  Harry  came  up,  looking  fome- 
what  grave.  I  fayd,  "  What  is 
"  the  Matter  ? "  He  gave  Anfwer, 
"  Rofe    hath    loft   her   Child."      Oh  ! 

that  we  fhould  live  but  a  two 

Hours'  Journey  apart,  and  that  fhe 
coulde  lofe  a  Child  three  Months 
olde  whom  I  had  never  feene? 

I  ran  to  Father,  and  never  left  off 

praying 


of  Mary  Powell. 


pra3'ing  him  to  let  me  goe  to  her 
till  he  confented. 

— What,  and  if  I  had  begged  as 
hard,  at  the  firfte,  to  goe  back  to 
Mr.  Milton  1  might  he  not  have 
confented  then? 

.  .  .  Soe  Harry  took  me  ;  and  as 
we  drew  neare  Sheep/cote,  I  was 
avifed  to  think  how  grave,  how 
barely  friendlie  had  beene  our  laft 
Parting ;  and  to  ponder,  w^ould  Rofe 
make  me  welcome  now  ?  The 
Infant,  Harry  tolde  me,  had  beene 
dead  fome  Dayes ;  and,  as  we  came 
in  Sight  of  the  little  grey  old  Church, 
we  faw  a  Knot  of  People  coming 
out  of  the  Churchyard,  and  guefled 
the  Baby  had  juft  beene  buried. 
Soe  it  proved — Mr.  Agnew's  Houfe- 
door  ftood  ajar ;  and  when  we 
tapped  foftlie  and  Cicely  admitted 
us,  we  could  fee  him  ftanding  by 
Rofe^  who  was  fitting  on  the  Ground 

and 


159 

1644. 


i6o 
1644. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

and  crying  as  if  fhe  would  not  be 
comforted.  When  fhe  hearde  my 
Voice,  fhe  ftarted  up,  flung  her 
Arms  about  me,  crying  more  bitterlie 
than  before,  and  I  cried  too ;  and 
Mr.  Agnciu  went  away  with  Harry. 
Then  Rofe  fayd  to  me,  "  You  mufl; 
"  not  leave  me  agayn."  .  .  . 

....  In  the  Cool  of  the  Evening, 
when  Harry  had  left  us,  fhe  took 
me  into  the  Churchyarde,  and  fcat- 
tered  the  little  Grave  with  Flowers ; 
and  then  continued  fitting  belide  it 
on  the  Gralfe,  quiete,  but  not  com- 
fortleflTe.  I  am  avifed  to  think  fhe 
prayed.  Then  Mr.  Agnew  came 
forthe  and  fate  on  a  flat  Tombftone 
hard  by  ;  and  without  one  Word  of 
Introdu(5lion  took  out  his  Pfalter, 
and  commenced  readincj  the  Pfalms 
for  that  Evening's  Service  ;  to  wit, 
the  41ft,  the  42d,  the  43de ;  in  a 
low  folemne  Voice  ;  and  methoughte 

I 


of  Mary  Powell. 


I  never  in  m}^  Life  hearde  aniething 

to   equall   it  in   the  Way  of  Confola- 

tion.     Ro/e's   heavie   Eyes  graduallie 

lookt  up   from   the    Ground    into    her 

Hufband's    Face,    and    thence   up    to 

Heaven.      After    this,     he    read,    or 

rather   repeated,    the    Collect    at  the 

end   of   the   Buriall   Service,   putting 

this  Expreffion,  —  "As  our  Hope  is, 

"  this  our  deare  Infant  doth."     Then 

he    went    on    to    fay    in    a    foothing 

Tone,   "There   hath    noe  Misfortune 

'  happened    to    us,    but   fuch    as    is 

'  common  to  the   Lot  of   alle   Men. 

'  We   are   alle    Sinners,  even  to   the 

'  youngeft,    fayreft,     and     feeminglie 

'  pureft     among      us ;      and      Death 

'  entered    the    World    by    Sin,    and, 

'  conftituted    as    we    are,    we    would 

'  not,    even    if    we    could,    difpenfe 

with    Death.     For,   where    doth    it 

convey    us  ?      From    this    burthen- 

fome,    miferable    World,    into     the 

M  "  generall 


i6i 

1644. 


1 62  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.       "  generall  AlTemblie  of  Chrifl^s  Firft- 

"  born,  to  be  united  with  the   Spiritts 

"  of   the   Juft   made   perfe6t,   to   par- 

"  take    of    everie    Enjoyment    which 

"  in  this  World  is  unconnected  with 

"  Sin,  together  with   others   that  are 

"  unknowne   and   unfpeakable.     And 

"  there,  we  fhall   agayn  have  Bodies 

"  as    well    as    Soules ;    Eyes    to   fee, 

"  but  not  to   fhed  Tears  ;   Voices  to 

"  fpeak    and    fing,    not   to   utter    La- 

"  mentations  ;    Hands    to    doe    God''s 

"  Work ;     Feet,     and     it     may     be, 

"  Wings,  to  carry  us  on  his  Errands. 

"  Such  will  be  the  BlefTednefs  of  his 

"  glorified     Saints :     even     of    thofe 

"  who,     having     been     Servants     of 

"  Satan      till      the      eleventh     Hour, 

"  laboured  penitentlie  and  diligentlie 

"  for    their     heavenlie     Mafter     one 

"  Hour    before    Sunfet ;    but    as    for 

"  thofe  who,  dying  in  mere  Infancie, 

"  never  committed   aftuall    Sin,  they 

"  follow 


of  Mary  Powell. 


163 


(( 


"  follow  the  Lamb  w^hithersoever 
"  he  goeth  !  '  Oh,  think  of  this, 
"  dear  Rofe^  and  forrow  not  as  thofe 
"  without  Hope  ;  for  be  affured, 
"  your  Child  hath  more  reall  Reafon 
to  be  grieved  for  you,  than  you 
"  for  him:  " 

With  this,  and  like  Difcourfe, 
that  diftilled  like  the  Dew,  or  the 
fmall  Rain  on  the  tender  Graffe, 
did  Roger  Agneiv  comfort  his  Wife, 
untill  the  Moon  had  rifen.  Likewife 
he  fpake  to  us  of  thofe  who  lay 
buried  arounde,  how  one  had  died 
of  a  broken  Heart,  another  of  fud- 
dain  Joy,  another  had  let  Patience 
have  her  perfe6l  Work  through 
Years  of  lingering  Difeafe.  Then 
we  walked  flowlie  and  compofedlie 
Home,  and  ate  our  Supper  peace- 
fullie,  Rofe  not  rcfufing  to  eat, 
thouo-h  fhe  took  but  little. 


1644. 


Since     that     Evening,     fhe     hath 


5 
at 


164 


1644. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


at  Mr.  AgneuPs  Wifh,  gone  much 
among  the  Poor,  reading  to  one, 
working  for  another,  carrying  Food 
and  Medicine  to  another ;  and  in 
this  I  have  borne  her  Companie. 
I  Hke  it  well.  Methinks  how 
pleafant  and  feemlie  are  the  Duties 
of  a  country  Minilter's  Wife  !  a 
God-fearing  Woman,  that  is,  who 
confidereth  the  Poor  and  Needy, 
infleade  of  aiming  to  be  frounced 
and  purfled  like  her  richeft  Neigh- 
bours. Mr.  Agnew  was  reading  to 
us,  laft  Night,  of  Bernard  Gilpin — 
he  of  whom  the  Lord  Burleigh  fayd, 
"  Who  can  blame  that  Man  for  not 
"  accepting  a  Bifhopric  ? "  How 
charmed  were  we  with  the  Defcrip- 
tion  of  the  Simplicitie  and  Hofpital- 
itie  of  his  Method  of  living  at 
Houghton  ! — There  is  another  Place 
of  nearlie  the  fame  Name,  in 
BuckinghamJJiire — not  Houghton^  but 

Norton^ 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Hortou,  ....  where  one  Mr.  yokn 
Milton  fpent  five  of  the  beft  Years 
of  his  Life,  —  and  where  methinks 
his  Wife  could  have  been  happier 
with  him  than  in  Bride  s  Chtirch- 
yarde.  —  But  it  profits  not  to  wifh 
and  to  will. — What  was  to  be,  had 
Need  to  be,  foe  there's  an  End. 

Mr.  Agnew  fayd  to  me  this  Morn- 
ing, fomewhat  gravelie,  "  I  obferve, 
"  Coiifin^  you  feem  to  confider  3-our- 
"  felfe  the  Victim  of  Circumftances.'' 
"  And  am  I  not  ?"  I  replied.  "  No," 
he  anfwered,  "  Circumflance  is  a 
falfe  God,  unrecognifed  by  the 
Chriftian,  who  contemns  him,  and 
"  makes  him  though  a  ftubborn 
"yet  a  profitable  Servant."— "' That 
"  may  be  alle  very  grand  for  a  Man 
"  to  doe,"  I  fayd.  "  Very  grand, 
"  but  very  feafiblc,  for  a  Woman  as 
"  well     as    a    Man,"     rejoined     Mr. 

Agnew^ 


a 


u 


165 


1644. 


Aug.  I. 


i66 


1644. 


Alaiden  &  Married  Life 


Ag7ieiv,  "  and  we  lliall  be  driven  to 
"  the  Wall  allc  our  Lives,  unlefs  we 
"  have  this  vi6lorious    Strug-ole  with 


fciS)' 


"  Circumftances.        I    feldom    allude. 


u 


Co-iijiii,  to  yours,  which  are  almofte 
"  too  delicate  for  me  to  meddle 
''  with ;  and  yet  I  hardlie  feele 
"juftified  in  letting  foe  many  Op- 
"  portunitles  efcape.  Do  I  offend  ? 
"  or  may  I  go  on  ?  —  Onlie  think, 
"  then,  how  voluntarilie  you  have 
"  placed  yourfelf  in  your  prefent 
"  uncomfortable        Situation.  The 

"  Tree  cannot  refift  the  grraduall 
"  Growth  of  the  Mofs  upon  it ; 
"  but  you  might,  anie  Day,  anie 
"  Hour,  have  freed  yourfelf  from 
"  the  equallie  graduall  Formation 
"  of  the  Net  that  has  enclofed  you 
"  at  laft.  You  entered  too  haflilie 
"  into  your  firfte  —  nay,  let  that 
"  pafs, — you  gave  too  fhorte  a 
"  Triall   of   your   new   Home   before 


u 


you 


of  Mary  Powell. 


167 


you  became  difgufted  with  it. 
Admit  it  to  have  beene  dull,  even 
unhealthfulle,  were  you  juftified 
in  forfaking  it  at  a  Month's 
End  ?  But  your  Hufband  gave 
you  Leave  of  iVbfence,  though 
obtayned  on  falfe  Pretences. — 
When  you  found  them  to  be  falfe, 
fhould  you  not  have  cleared  your- 
felf  to  him  of  Knowledge  of  the 
Deceit  ?  Then  your  Leave,  foe 
obtayned,  expired  —  fhoulde  you 
not  have  returned  then  ? — Your 
Health  and  Spiritts  were  re- 
cruited ;  your  Hufband  wrote  to 
reclaim  you — fhoulde  you  not 
have  returned  then  ?  He  pro- 
vided an  Efcort,  whom  your 
Father  beat  and  drove  away. — 
If  you  had  inlifled  on  going  to 
your  Hufband,  might  you  not 
have  gone  then  ?  Oh,  Coiijin,  you 
dare    not   look    up   to    Heaven   and 

fay 


1644. 


1 68  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.       "  ^^y  yo^^   have   been   the   Viftim    of 
"  Circumftances." 

I  made  no  Anfwer ;  onlie  felt 
much  moven,  and  very  angrie.  I 
fayd,  "  If  I  wifhed  to  goe  back, 
"  Mr.  Milton  w^oulde  not  receive  me 
"  now." 

"Will  you  try?"  fayd  Roger. 
"  Will  you  but  let  me  try  ?  Will 
"  you  let  me  write  to  him  ?  " 

I  had  a  Mind  to  fay  "Yes." — 
Infteade,  I  anfwered  "  No." 

"  Then  there's  an  End,"  cried  he 
fharplie.  "  Had  you  made  but  one 
"  fayre  Triall,  whether  fuccefsfulle 
"  or  noc,  I  coulde  have  been  fatisfied 
"  — no,  not  fatisfied,  but  I  woulde 
"  have  efleemed  you,  coulde  have 
"  taken  your  Part.  As  it  is,  the 
"  lefs  I  fay  juft  now,  perhaps,  the 
"  better.  Forgive  me  for  having 
"  fpoken  at  alle." 

Afterwards,     I     hearde      him 

fay 


of  Mary  Powell. 


fay  to  Rofe  of  me,  "  I  verilie 
"  believe  there  is  Nothing  in  her 
"  on  which  to  make  a  permanent 
"  Impreffion.  I  verilie  think  fhe 
"  loves  everie  one  of  thofe  long 
"  Curls  of  hers  more  than  fhe  loves 
"Mr.  MiltonP 

(Note:  —  I  will  cut  them  two 
Inches  fhorter  to-night.  And  the}^ 
will  grow  all  the  falter.) 

....  Oh,  my  fad  Heart,  Roger 
Agnew  hath  pierced  you  at  laft ! 

I  was  moved  more  than  he 
thought,  by  what  he  had  fayd  in 
the  Morning;  and,  in  writing  down 
the  Heads  of  his  Speech,  to  kill 
Time,  a  kind  of  Refentment  at 
myfelfe  came  over  me,  unlike  to 
what  I  had  ever  felt  before  ;  in  fpite 
of  my  Folly  about  my  Curls. 
Seeking  for  fome  Trifle  in  a  Bag 
that  had  not  been  fliaken  out  lince 
I     brought     it     from     London^     out 

tumbled 


169 

1644. 


170 

1644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


tumbled  a  Key  with   curious  Wards 
—  I    knew    it    at    once    for    one    that 
belonged   to  a   certa'yn  Algum-wood 
Cafket  Mr.  Milto7t  had   Recourfe   to 
dailie,  becaufe  he  kept  fmall  Change 
in  it ;  and  I  knew  not  I  had  brouaht 
it    away !        'Twas    worked    in    Gro- 
tefque,    the     Calket,     by    Benvenuto, 
for    Clement    the     Seventh,    who    for 
fome    Reafon    woulde    not    have    it; 
and    foe    it    came    fomehow    to    Cle- 
mentillo,  who  gave  it  to  Mr.  Milton. 
Thought   I,   how    uncomfortable    the 
Lofs   of  this   Key   muft   have    made 
him !     he     mufl    have    needed     it    a 
hundred    Times  !     even    if    he     hath 
bought    a   new   Cafket,   I-  will   for   it 
he  habituallie  goes  aga3^n  and  agayn 
to  the  old  one,  and  then  he  remem- 
bers  that   he   loft  the  Key  the  fame 
Day     that     he     loft     his     Wife.       I 
heartilie     wifti     he     had      it      back. 
Ah,   but   he   feels   not   the   one    Lofs 

as 


of  Mary  Powell. 


171 


as  he  feels  the  other.  Nay,  but  1644. 
it  is  as  well  that  one  of  them, 
tho'  the  LelTer,  fhould  be  repaired. 
'Twill  fhew  Signe  of  Grace,  my 
thinking  of  him,  and  may  open 
the  Way,  if  God  wills,  to  fome 
Interchange  of  KindneiTe,  however 
fleeting. 

Soe  I  foughte  out  Mr.  AgneWj 
tapping  at  his  Studdy  Doore.  He 
fayd,  "Come  in,"  drylie  enoughe  ; 
and  there  were  he  and  Rofe  reading 
a  Letter.  I  fayd,  "  I  want  you  to 
"write  for  me  to  Mr.  MiltonP  He 
gave  a  four  Look,  as  much  as  to  fay 
he  difliked  the  Office  ;  which  threw 
me  back,  as  'twere  ;  he  having  foe 
lately  propofed  it  himfelf  Rofes 
Eyes,  however,  dilated  with  fweete 
Pleafure,  as  flie  lookt  from  one  to 
the   other  of  us. 

"Well, —  I  fear  'tis  too  late,"  fayd 
he    at    length    relu6tantlie,    I    mighte 

almofl; 


172  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.       almofl  fay  grufflie,  —  "what  am  I   to 
"write  ?" 

"To  tell  him  I  have  this  Key," 
I  made  Anfwer  faltering. 

"That  Key!"  cried  he. 

"Yes,  the  Key  of  his  Algum- 
"  wood  Calket,  which  I  knew  not 
"  I  had,  and  which  I  think  he  mufl 
"  mifs   dailie." 

He  lookt  at  me  with  the  utmofl 
Impatience.  "And  is  that  alle.?" 
he  fayd. 

"  Yes,  alle,"  I  fayd  trembling. 

"  And  have  you  nothing  more  to 
"tell  him?"  fayd  he. 

"No  —  "after  a  Paufe,  I  replyed. 
Rofs  Countenance  fell. 

"  Then  you  muft  afk  fome  one 
"  elfe  to  write  for  you,  Mrs.  Milton,'''^ 
burfte  forthe  Roger  Agnew,  "  unlefs 
"  you  choofe  to  write  for  yourfelf 
"  I  have  neither  Part  nor  Lot  in 
"  it." 

I 


of  Mary  Powell. 


I  burfte  forthe  into  Teares. 
—  "No,  Rofe,  no,"  repeated  Mr. 
Agnew,  putting  afide  his  Wife,  who 
woulde  have  interceded  for  me, — 
her  Teares  have  noe  Effe6l  on  me 
now — the}^  proceed,  not  from  a 
contrite  Heart,  they  are  the  Tears 
of  a  Child  that  cannot  brook  to 
be  chidden  for  the  Waywardnefle 
in  which  it  perlifls." 
"  You  doe  me  Wrong  everie 
Way,"  I  fayd  ;  "  I  came  to  you 
willing  and  defirous  to  doe  what 
you  yourfelfe  woulde,  this  Morn- 
ing, have  had  me  doe." 
"  But  in  how  ftrange  a  Way  ! " 
cried  he.  "  At  a  Time  when  anie 
"  Renewal  of  your  Intercourfe  re- 
"  quires  to  be  condu6led  with  the 
"  utmoft  Delicacy,  and  even  with 
"  more  Shew  of  Conceffion  on  your 
"  Part  than,  an  Hour  ago,  I  fhould 
"  have    deemed    ncedfulle, — to     pro- 

"  pofe 


173 


1644. 


174 


1644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

"  pofe    an    abrupt,   trivial    Communi- 
"  cation  about  an  old  Key  !  " 

"  It  needed  not  to  have  been 
"  abrupt,"  I  fayd,  "  nor  yet  trivial ; 
"  for  I  meant  it  to  have  beene 
"  exprefh  kindlie." 

"  You  faid  not  that  before," 
anfwered  he. 

"  Becaufe  you  gave  me  not  Time. 
"  — Becaufe  you  chid  me  and  fright- 
"  ened  me." 

He  flood  filent,  fome  While,  upon 
this  \  grave,  yet  fofter,  and  mechani- 
callie  playing  with  the  Ke}',  which 
he  had  taken  from  my  Hand.  Rofe 
looking  in  his  Face  anxiouflie.  At 
lengthe,  to  difturbe  his  Reverie,  fhe 
playfulle  tooke  it  from  him,  faying, 
in  School-girl  Phrafe, 

"  This  is  the  Key  of  the 
"  Kingdom  !  " 

"  Of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
"  it    mighte    be  !  "   exclaimed   Roger^ 


a 


if 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  if  we  knew  how  to  ufe  it  arighte  ! 
"  If  we  knew  but  how  to  fit  it  to 
"the  Wards  of  Miltoiis  Heart!  — 
"  there's  the  Difficultie  ....  a 
"  greater  one,  poor  Moll,  than  you 
"  know ;  for  hithertoe,  alle  the  Re- 
"  lu6lance  has  been  on  your  Part. 
"  But  now  .  .  .  ." 

"\Yhat  now  ?"  I  anxiouflie  aikt. 

"  We  were  talking  of  you  but  as 
"  you  rejoyned  us,"  fayd  Mr.  Agnew, 
"and  I  was  telling  i'?^  that  hithertoe 
"  I  had  confidered  the  onlic  Obftacle 
"  to  a  Reunion  arofe  from  a  falfe 
"  Imprellion  of  your  own,  that  Mr. 
"  Milton  coulde  not  make  3'ou  happy. 
"  But  now  I  have  beene  led  to  the 
"  Conclufion  that  you  cannot  make 
"  him  foe,  which  increafes  the  Diffi- 
"  cultie." 

After  a  Paufe,  I  fayd,  "What 
"makes  you  think  foe?" 

"  You    and     he     have     made     me 

"  think 


175 


1644. 


176 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1644. 


think  foe,"  he  replyed.  "  Firft  for 
yourfelf,  clear  Moll,  putting  afide 
for  a  Time  the  Conficleration  of 
your  Youth,  Beauty,  FranknefTe, 
Mirthfullenefle,  and  a  certayn  girl- 
ifh  Drollerie  and  Mifchiefe  that  are 
all  very  well  in  fitting  Time  and 
Place,  —  what  remains  in  you  for 
a  Mind  like  John  Millo7t's  to  repofe 
upon  ?  what  Stabilitie  ?  what  Sym- 
pathie  ?  what  fheadfaft  Principle  ? 
You  take  noe  Pains  to  apprehend 
and  relifh  his  favourite  Purfuits ; 
you  care  not  for  his  wounded 
Feelings,  you  confult  not  his  In- 
terefts,  anie  more  than  your  owne 
Duty.  Now,  is  fuch  the  Cha- 
ra6ler  to  make  Millon  happy  ? " 
'"  No     one    can    anfwer    that    but 

"  himfelf,"    I    replyed,    deeplie    mor- 

tyfide. 

"  Well,  he  has  anfwered  it,"  fayd 

Mr.    Ag7iew,    taking    up    the    Letter 

he 


of  Mary  Powell. 


he  and  Rofe  had  beene  reading  when 
I  interrupted  them.  ..."  You 
"  muft  know,  Coujiit,  that  his  and 
"  my  clofe  Friendfhip  hath  beene 
"  a  good  deal  interrupted  by  this 
"  Matter.  'Twas  under  my  Roof 
"  you  met.  Ro/e  had  imparted  to 
"  me     much    of    her    earlie    Intereft 


a 


a 


iC. 


a 


in  you.  I  fancied  you  had  good 
'  Difpolitions  which,  under  maf- 
terlie  Trayning,  would  ripen  into 
"  noble  Principles  ;  and  therefore 
promoted  your  Marriage  as  far  as 
my  Intereft  wdth  your  Father  had 
"  Weight.  I  own  I  was  furprifed 
"  at  his  eafilie  obtayned  Confent  .... 
"  but,  that  you,  once  domefhicated 
"  with  fuch  a  INIan  as  yo/ui  Milton, 
"  fhould  find  your  Home  unin- 
terefting,  your  Affeftions  free  to 
ftray  back  to  your  owne  Family, 
"  was  what  I  had  never  contem- 
"  plated." 

N  Here 


a 


a 


177 


1644. 


178 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1644. 


Here  I  made  a  Show  of  taking 
the  Letter,  but  he  held  it  back. 

"  No,  Moll^  you  difappointed  us 
"  everie  Way.  And,  for  a  Time, 
"  Rofe  and  I  were  fo  afhamed,  for 
"  you  rather  than  of  you,  that  we 
"  left  noe  Means  negle6ted  of  trying 
"  to  preferve  your  Place  in  your 
"  Hufband's  Regard.  But  you  did 
"  not  bear  us  out ;  and  then  he  be- 
"  ganne  to  take  it  amiffe  that  we 
"  upheld  you.  Soe  then,  after  fome 
"  warm  and  cool  Words,  our  Cor- 
"  refpondence  languifhed  ;  and  hath 
"  but  now  beene  renewed." 

"  He  has  written  us  a  moft  kind 
"  Condolence,"  interrupted  Rofe^ 
"  on  the  Death  of  our  Baby." 

"  Yes,  moft  kindlie,  moft  nobly 
"  expreft,"  fayd  Mr.  Agnew ;  "  but 
"  what  a  Conclufion  !  " 

And  then,  after  this  long  Pre- 
amble,   he    offered    me    the    Letter, 

the 


of  Mary  Powell. 


the  Beginning  of  which,  tho'  doubt- 
leffe  well  enough,  I  marked  not, 
being  impatient  to  reach  the  latter 
Part  ;  wherein  I  found  myfelf  fpoken 
of  foe  bitterlie,  foe  harfhlie,  as  that 
I  too  plainly  faw  Roger  Agnew  had 
not  beene  befide  the  Mark  when  he 
decided  I  could  never  make  Mr. 
Milton  Happy.  Payned  and  wounded 
Feeling  made  me  lay  alide  the  Letter 
without  proffering  another  Word, 
and  retreat  without  foe  much  as 
a  Sigh  or  a  Sob  into  mine  own 
Chamber  ;  but  noe  longer  could  the 
Reftraynt  be  maintained.  I  fell  to 
weeping  foe  paffionatelie  that  Rofe 
prayed  to  come  in,  and  condoled 
with  me,  and  advifed  me,  foe  as  that 
at  length  my  Weeping  abated,  and  I 
promifed  to  return  below  when  I 
fhoulde  have  bathed  mine  Eyes  and 
fmoothed  my  Hair ;  but  I  have  not 
gone  down  yet. 

I 


179 


1644. 


i8o 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1644. 

Bedtime. 


I  think  I  lliall  fend  to  Father  to 
have  me  Home  at  the  Beo-innin^  of 
next  Week.  Rofe  needes  me  not, 
now ;  and  it  cannot  be  pleafant  to 
Mr.  Agnew  to  fee  m}^  forrowfulle 
Face  about  the  Houfe.  His  Re- 
proofe  and  my  Hufband's  together 
have  riven  my  Heart ;  I  think  I 
fliall  never  laugh  agayn,  nor  fmile 
but  after  a  piteous  Sorte ;  and  foe 
People  will  ceafe  to  love  me,  for 
there  is  Nothing  in  me  of  a  graver 
Kind  to  draw  their  Affeftion  ;  and 
foe  I  fliall  lead  a  moping  Life  unto 
the  End  of  my  Dayes. 

—  Luckilie  for  me,  Rofe  hath 
much  Sewing  to  doe  ;  for  fhe  hath 
undertaken  with  great  Energie  her 
Labours  for  the  Poore,  and  con- 
fequentlie  fpends  lefs  Time  in  her 
Hufband's  Studdy  ;  and,  as  I  help 
her  to  the  beft  of  my  Means,  my 
Sewing  hides   my  Lack   of  Talking, 

and 


of  Mary  Powell. 


and  Mr.  Agnew  reads  to  us  luch 
Books  as  he  deems  entertayning ; 
yet,  half  the  Time,  I  hear  not  what 
he  reads.  Still,  I  did  not  deeme  fo 
much  Amufement  could  have  beene 
found  in  Books;  and  there  are  fome 
of  his,  that,  if  not  foe  cumbrous,  I 
woulde  fain  borrow. 

I  have  made  up  my  Mind  now, 
that  I  fhall-  never  fee  Mr.  Milton 
more ;  and  am  refolved  to  fubmitt 
to  it  without  another  Tear. 

Rofe  fayd,  this  Morning,  fhe  was 
glad  to  fee  me  more  compofed ; 
and  foe  am  I ;  but  never  was  more 
mile  r  able. 

Mr.  AgneuPs  religious  Services  at 
the  End  of  the  Week  have  alwaies 
more  than  ufuall  Matter  and  Mean- 
inge  in  them.  They  are  neither  foe 
drowfy   as   thofe    I    have    beene    for 

manie 


i8i 


1644. 


Friday. 


Saturday 
Night. 


l82 


1644. 


Maide7i  &  Married  Life 

manie  Years  accuftomed  to  at  Home, 
nor  foe  wearifome  as  to  remind 
me  of  the  Puritans.  Were  there 
manie  fuch  as  he  in  our  Church, 
foe  faithfulle,  fervent,  and  thought- 
^le,  methinks  there  would  be  fewer 
Schifmaticks;  but  ftill  there  woulde 
be  fome,  becaufe  there  are  alwaies 
fome  that  like  to  be  the  uppermofl. 

....  To-nighte,  Mr.  Agnew's 
Prayers  went  ftraight  to  my  Heart ; 
and  I  privilie  turned  fundrie  of  his 
generall  Petitions  into  particular 
ones,  for  myfelf  and  Robin.,  and  alfo 
for  Mr.  Milton.  This  gave  fuch 
unwonted  Relief,  that  lince  I  entered 
into  my  Clofet,  I  have  repeated  the 
fame  particularlie ;  one  Requeft 
feeming  to  grow  out  of  another,  till 
I  remained  I  know  not  how  long 
on  my  Knees,  and  will  bend  them 
yet  agayn,  ere  I  go  to  Bed. 

How    fweetlie    the    Moon    fhines 

through 


of  Mary  Powell. 


through  my  Cafement  to-night ! 
I  am  almofte  avifed  to  accede  to 
Rof^s  Requeft  of  fl;a3'ing  here  to  the 
End  of  the  Month:  —  everie  Thing 
here  is  foe  peacefulle ;  and  Forcji 
Hill  is  dull,   now  Robin  is  away. 

How  blelTed  a  Sabbath! — Can  it 
be,  that  I  thought,  onlie  two  Days 
back,  I  fhoulde  never  know  Peace 
agayn  ?  Joy  I  may  not,  but  Peace 
I  can  and  doe.  And  yet  nought 
hath  amended  the  unfortunate  Con- 
dition of  mine  Affairs;  but  a  different 
Colouring  is  caflc  upon  them — the 
Lord  grant  that  it  may  laft !  How 
hath  it  come  foe,  and  how  may  it 
be  preferred }  This  Morn,  when  I 
awoke,  'twas  with  a  Senfe  of  Relief 
fuch  as  we  have  when  we  mils  Ibme 
wearying  bodilie  Pa^'n ;  a  Feeling 
as  though  I  had  bcene  forgiven,  yet 
not   by   Mr.   Milto7i^   for  I   knew   he 

had 


183 


1644. 


Sunday- 
Evening. 


184  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.  had  not  forgiven  me.  Then,  it 
mufh  be,  I  was  forgiven  by  God; 
and  w^hy  ?  I  had  done  Nothing  to 
get  his  Forgiveneffe,  only  prefumed 
on  his  Mercy  to  afk  manie  Things 
I  had  noe  Right  to  expe6l.  And 
yet  I  felt  I  was  forgiven.  Why  then 
mighte  not  Mr.  Milton  fome  Day 
forgive  me  ?  Should  the  Debt  of 
ten  thoufand  Talents  be  cancelled, 
and  not  the  Debt  of  a  hundred 
Pence  ?  Then  I  thought  on  that 
fame  Word,  Talents;  and  confidered, 
had  I  ten,  or  even  one  ?  Decided  to 
conlider  it  at  leifure,  more  clofelie, 
and  to  make  over  to  God  henceforthe, 
be  they  ten,  or  be  it  one.  Then, 
dreffed  with  much  Compofure,  and 
went  down  to  Breakfaft. 

Having  marked  that  Mr.  Agnew 
and  Ro/e  affefted  not  Companie  on 
this  Day,  fpent  it  chieflie  by  myfelf, 
except    at   Church    and    Meal-times  ; 

partlie 


of  Mary  Powell. 


partlie  in  my  Chamber,  partlie  in 
the  Garden  Bowre  by  the  Bee-hives. 
Made  manie  Refolutions,  which,  in 
Chm'ch,  I  converted  into  Prayers  and 
Promifes.     Hence,  my  holy  Peace. 

Rofe  propoled,  this  Morning,  we 
fhoulde  refume  our  Studdies.  Felt 
loath  to  comply,  but  did  foe  never- 
theleffe,  and  afterwards  we  walked 
manie  Miles,  to  vilit  fome  poor  Folk. 
This  Evening,  Mr.  Agiieiu  read  us 
the  Prologue  to  the  Ca7iterbury 
Tales.  How  lifelike  are  the  Por- 
traitures !  I  mind  me  that  Mr. 
Miltoji  ihevved  me  the  Talbot  Inn, 
that  Day  we  croft  the  River  with 
Mr.  Marvell. 

How  heartilie  do  I  wifh  I  had 
never  read  that  fame  Letter!  —  or 
rather,  that  it  had  never  beene 
written,     ^hus   it   is,   even   with   our 

Wifhes. 


185 


1644. 


Monday. 


Tuesday. 


i86 


1644. 


Wednesday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


Willies.  We  think  ourlelves  reafon- 
able  in  wifhing  Ibme  fmall  Thing 
were  otherwife,  which  it  were  quite 
as  impoffible  to  alter  as  fome  great 
Thing.  Nevertheleffe  I  cannot  help 
fretting  over  the  Remembrance  of 
that  Part  wherein  he  fpake  fuch 
bitter  Things  of  my  "  moft  un- 
"  s:overnecl  Pallion  for  Revellings 
"  and  Junketings."  Sure,  he  would 
not  call  my  Life  too  merrie  now, 
could  he  fee  me  lying  wakefulle  on 
my  Bed,  could  he  fee  me  preventing 
the  Morning  Watch,  could  he  fee 
me  at  my  Prayers,  at  my  Books,  at 
my  Needle.  .  .  .  He  fhall  find  he 
hath  judged  too  hardlie  of  poor 
Moll,  even  yet. 

Took  a  cold  Dinner  in  a  Bafket 
with  us  to-day,  and  ate  our  rufticall 
Repafl  on  the  Skirt  of  a  Wood, 
where  we  could  fee  the  Squirrels  at 

theire 


of  Mary  Powell.  187 


theire  Gambols.  Mr.  Agiiew  lay  on  1644. 
the  Grafle,  and  Rofe  took  out  her 
Knitting,  whereat  he  laught,  and 
fayd  fhe  was  like  the  Dutch  Women, 
that  mufl  knit,  whether  mourning 
or  feafting,  and  even  on  the  Sabbath. 
Having  laught  her  out  of  her  Work, 
he  drew  forth  Mr.  Georo^e  Hcrbcrfs 
Poems,  and  read  us  a  Strayn  which 
pleafed  Rofe  and  me  foe  much,  that 
I  fhall  copy  it  herein  to  have  always 
by  me. 

How  freft^  oh  Lord ;    how  fiuect  and 
clean 

Are  thy  Returns  !  e^en  as  the  Flowers 
in  Springs 

To    which^    bcfide    theire    ovjne    De- 
mefne^ 

The  late  pent  Frofls  Tributes  of  P lea- 
fur  e  bring. 

Grief  melts  away  like  Snow  in  Afay, 

As  if  there  were  noe  fuch  cold  Thing. 

Who 


i88 
1644. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Who  would  have  thought  my  JJirivelled 

Heart 
Woulde  have  recovered  Greennefs  ?   it 

ivas  cone 
^uite  underground^  as  Flowers  depart 
To  fee  their  Mother-root,  whe7i  they 

have  blown, 
Where    they    together,    alle    the    hard 

Weather, 
Dead  to  the  World,  keep  Houfe  alone. 


Thefe  are  thy  Wonders, Lord  of  Power  I 
Killing  and  quickening,  briitging  down 

to  Hell 
And  up  to  Heaven,  in  an  Hour, 
Making  a  Chiming  of  a  paffing  Bell. 
We  fay  amifs  "  tJiis  or  that  is  ;  " 
Thy  Word  is  alle,  if  we  could  fpcll. 

Oh  that  I  once  pafl  changing  were  / 
Fafl  in  thy  Paradife,  where  no  Flozvers 
can  wither  ; 

Manie 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Manie  a  Spring  I JJioot  7ip  /aire, 
Offering    at    Heaven^    growing    and 

groaning  thither^ 
Nor  doth  my  Flower  want  a  Spring 

Shower, 
My  Sins  and  I  Joy  7  ting  together. 

But  while  I  grow  in  ajlraight  Line, 
Still  upwards  bent,  as  if  'Heaven  were 

my  own, 
Thy  Anger  comes,  and  I  decline. — 
What  Froji  to  that?     What  Pole  is 

not  the  Zone 
Where  a  lie    Things  burn,  when  tho2c 

dojl  tur7i, 
And  the  leafl  Frown  of  thine  isfJiew7t  ? 

A7id  now,  i7i  Age,  I  bud  agay7i, 
After  foe  7na7iie  Deaths,   I  biid  a7id 

write, 
I  once  more  finell  the  Dew  a7id  Rai7i, 
A7id  relifJi    Verfi7ig!      Oh    my   07ilie 


Licrht! 


// 


189 

1644. 


190 


1644- 


Thursday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

It  cannot  be  that  I  a7n  he 

On  who7n  thy  Tempejls  fell  alle  Night? 

Thefe  are  thy  Wonders,  Lord  of  Love, 
To  make  us  fee  we  are  but  Flowers 

that  glide, 
Which,    zvhen    we   once   can  feel  and 

prove, 
Thou  hafl  a  Garden  for  tis  where  to 

bide. 
Who    would  be   more,  fwelling  their 

Store, 
Forfeit  their  Paradife  by  theire  Pride. 

Father  fent  over  Diggory  with  a 
Letter  for  me  from  deare  Robin  : 
alfoe,  to  afk  when  I  was  minded  to 
return  Home,  as  Mother  wants  to 
goe  to  Sandford.  Fixed  the  Week 
after  next;  but  Rofe  fays  I  mult  be 
here  agayn  at  the  Apple-gathering. 
Anfwered  Robin^s  Letter.  He  look- 
eth  not  for  Choyce  of  fine  Words  ; 

nor 


of  Mary  Powell. 


nor  noteth   an  Error   here   and  there 
in  the   Spelling. 

Life  flows  away  here  in  fuch  un- 
marked Tranquilitie,  that  one  hath 
Nothing  whereof  to  write,  or  to 
remember  what  diftinguiflied  one 
Day  from  another.  I  am  fad,  yet 
not  dulle ;  methinks  I  have  grown 
fome  Yeares  older  fince  I  came  here. 
I  can  fancy  elder  Women  feeling 
much  as  I  doe  now.  I  have  Nothingr 
to  defire,  Nothing  to  hope,  that  is 
likelie  to  come  to  pafs  —  Nothing  to 
regret,  except  I  begin  foe  far  back, 
that  my  whole  Life  hath  neede,  as 
'twere,  to  begin  over  agayn.  .  .  . 

Mr.  Agnew  tranflates  to  us  Portions 
of  Thuanus  his  Hiftorie,  and  the 
Letters  of  Theodore  Beza,  concerning 
the  French  Reformed  Church ;  oft 
prolix,  yet  interefting,  efpecially 
with    Mr.    Agnew's    Comments,    and 

Allufions 


191 


1644. 


Tuesday. 


192 

i644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Allufions    to    our    own    Time,        On 
the  other  Hand,  Rofe  reads  Davila^ 
the    fworne   Apologifte    of   Catherine 
di  Medicis,  whofe   charming  Italian 
even   I   can   comprehende ;    but    alle 
is    falfe    and    plaufible.      How    fad, 
that    the    wrong    Partie    fhoulde     be 
vi6torious !       Soe    it    may    befall    in 
this   Land ;   though,   indeede,  I  have 
hearde   foe   much   bitter   Rayling  on 
bothe  Sides,  that  I  know  not  which 
is   right.     The  Line  of  Demarcation 
is     not     foe     diftin6lly    drawn,     me- 
thinks,  as   'twas    in   France.      Yet    it 
cannot    be    right    to    take    up    Arms 
agaynft      conftituted     Authorities  ?  — 
Yet,    and    if   thofe   fame   Authorities 
abufe    their    Truft  ?       Nay,    Women 
cannot     underftand     thefe      Matters, 
and   I  thank  Fleaven  they  need  not. 
Onlie,   they   cannot  help  fiding  with 
thofe     they     love ;     and     fometimes 
thofe  they  love  are  on  oppofite   Sides. 

Mr. 


of  Maiy  Powell. 


Mr.  Agnew  fayth,  the  fecular 
Arm  flioulde  never  be  employed  in 
fpirituall  Matters,  and  that  the 
Hiigenots  committed  a  grave  Miftake 
in  chooling  Princes  and  Admirals 
for  their  Leaders,  infteade  of  fimple 
Preachers  with  Bibles  in  their  Hands; 
and  he  afkt,  "  did  Luther  or  Peter 
""  the  Hermit  moft  manifeftlie  labour 
"  with  the  Bleffing  of  Godr' 

....  I  have  noted  the  Heads 
of  Mr.  Agneius  Readings,  after  a 
Fafhion  of  Rofcs^  in  order  to  have 
a  fhorte,  comprehenlive  Account  of 
the  Whole  ;  and  this  hath  abridged 
my  journalling.  It  is  the  more 
profitable  to  me  of  the  two,  changes 
the  fad  Current  of  Thought,  and, 
though  an  unaccuftomed  Tafk,  I  like 
it  well. 

On     Monday^     I    return    to    Forejl 

Hill.     I  am  well  pleafed  to  have  yet 

o  another 


193 


1644. 


Saturday. 


194 


i644- 


Aug.  3. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

another  Shccpfcote  Sabbath.  To-day 
we  had  the  rare  Event  of  a  Dinner- 
gueft ;  foe  full  of  what  the  Rebels 
are  doing,  and  alle  the  Horrors  of 
Strife,  that  he  feemed  to  us  quiete 
Folks,  like  the  Denizen  of  another 
World. 

Foreji  Hill,  Augiijl  3. 
Home  agayn,  and  Mother  hath 
gone  on  her  long  intended  Vilitt  to 
Uncle  John,  taking  with  her  the 
two  youngell.  Father  much  pre- 
occupide,  by  reafon  of  the  Supplies 
needed  for  his  Majefly's  Service ; 
foe  that,  fvveet  Robin  being  away, 
I  find  myfelfe  lonely.  Harry  rides 
with  me  in  the  Evening,  but  the 
Mornings  I  have  alle  to  myfelf ;  and 
when  I  have  fulfilled  Mother^s 
Behefts  in  the  Kitchen  and  Still- 
room,  I  have  nought  but  to  read  in 


our    fomewhat    fcant 


Colle6lion     of 
Books, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Books,  the  mofte  Part  whereof  are 
religious.  And  (not  on  that  Account, 
but  b}^  reafon  I  have  read  the  moft 
of  them  before),-  methinks  I  will 
write  to  borrow  fome  of  Rofe  /  for 
Chang-e  of  Readins^  hath  now  become 
a  Want.  I  am  minded,  alio,  to  feek 
out  and  minifter  unto  fome  poore 
Folk  after  her  Fafhion.  Now  that 
I  am  Queen  of  the  Larder,  there  is 
manie  a  wholefome  Scrap  at  my 
Difpofal,  and  there  are  likewife 
fundrie  Ph3'fiques  in  my  Mother's 
Clofet,  which  fhe  addeth  to  Year 
by  Year,  and  never  wants,  we  are 
foe  feldom  ill. 

Dear  Father  fayd  this  Evening, 
as  we  came  in  from  a  Walk  on  the 
Terrace,  "  My  fweet  Moll^  you  were 
"  ever  the  Light  of  the  Houfe  ;  but 
"  now,  though  you  are  more  ftaid 
"  than    of   former   Time,    I   find   you 


u 


a 


195 


1644. 


Aug.  5. 


196 


i644- 


Same 
Nijrht. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


a 


a  better  Companion  than  ever. 
"  This  laft  Vifitt  to  Sheep/cote  hath 
"  evened  your  Spiritts." 

Poor  Father!  he  knew  not  how 
I  lay  awake  and  wept  laft  Night, 
for  one  I  fhall  never  fee  agayn,  nor 
how  the  Terrace  Walk  minded  me 
of  him.  My  Spiritts  may  feem  even, 
and  I  exert  myfelf  to  pleafe ;  but, 
within,  all  is  dark  Shade,  or  at  beft, 
grey  Twilight ;  and  my  Spiritts  are, 
in  Fa6f,  worfe  here  than  they  were 
at  Sheep/cote^  becaufe,  here,  I  am 
continuallie  thinking  of  one  whofe 
Name  is  never  uttered  \  whereas, 
there,  it  was  mentioned  naturallie 
and  tenderlie,  though  fadly.  .  .  . 

I  will  forthe  to  fee  fome  of  the 
poor  Folk. 

Refolved  to  make  the  Circuit  of 
the  Cottages,  but  onlie  reached  the 
firft,  wherein   I   found   Poor  Nell  in 

fuch 


of  Mary  Powell. 


fuch  Grief  of  Body  and  Mind,  that 
I  was  avifed  to  wait  with  her  a  long 
Time.  Alkt  why  fhe  had  not  fent 
to  us  for  Relief;  was  anfwered  fhe 
had  thought  of  doing  foe,  but  was 
feared  of  makins:  too  free.  After  a 
lengthened  Vifitt,  which  feemed  to 
relieve  her  Mind,  and  certaynlie 
relieved  mine,  I  bade  her  Farewell, 
and  at  the  Wicket  met  my  Father 
coming  up  with  a  playn-favoured 
but  fcholarlike  looking  reverend 
Man.  He  layd,  ''Moll,  I  could  not 
"  think  what  had  become  of  you." 
I  anfwered,  I  hoped  I  had  not  kept 
him  waiting  for  Dinner  —  poor  Nell 
had  entertayned  me  longer  than  I 
wifht,  with  the  Catalogue  of  her 
Troubles.  The  Stranger  looking 
attentively  at  mc,  obferved  that  may 
be  the  poor  woman  had  entertayned 


an 


Angrcl 


unawares  :     and    added, 


"  Doubt    not.     Madam,    we     woulde 

"  rather 


197 


1644. 


1 98' 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1644.  "  rather  await  our  Dinner  than  that 
"  you  fliould  have  curtayled  3'our 
"  Meffage  of  Charity."  Hithertoe, 
mv  Father  had  not  named  this 
Gentleman  to  me  ;  but  now  he  fayd, 
"  Child,  this  is  the  Reverend  Doctor 
"  Jeremy  Taylor^  Chaplain  in  Ordi- 
"  narie  to  his  Majefty,  and  whom 
"  you  know  I  have  heard  more  than 
''  once  preach  before  the  King  fince 
"  he  abode  in  Oxford^  Thereon 
I  made  a  lowly  Reverence,  and  we 
walked  homewards  together.  At 
firft,  he  difcourfed  chiefly  with  my 
Father  on  the  Troubles  of  the  Times, 
and  then  he  drew  me  into  the  Dia- 
logue, in  the  Courfe  of  which  I  let 
fall  a  Saying  of  Mr.  AgneiiPs,  which 
drew  from  the  reverend  Gentleman 
a  refpeftfulle  Look  I  felt  I  no  Way 
deferved.  Soe  then  I  had  to  explain 
that  the  Saying  was  none  of  mine, 
and   felt  afhamed  he  fhoulde   fuppofe 

me 


of  Mary  Powell. 


me  wifer  than  I  was,  efpeciallie  as 
he  commended  my  Modefty.  But 
we  progrefled  well,  and  he  foon  had 
the  Difcourfe  all  to  himfelf,  for 
Squire  Pake  came  up,  and  detained 
Father^  while  the  Do6lor  and  I 
walked  on.  I  could  not  help  re- 
Hefting  how  odd  it  was,  that  I, 
whom  Nature  had  endowed  with 
fuch  a  very  ordinarie  Capacitie,  and 
fcarce  anie  Tafhe  for  Letters,  fhoulde 
continuallie  be  thrown  into  the 
Companie  of  the  clevereft  of  Men, — 
firft,  Mr.  Milto7i ;  then  Mr.  Agnew ; 
and  now,  this  Do6lor  yerciny  Taylor. 
But,  like  the  other  two,  he  is  not 
merely  clever,  he  is  Chriftian  and 
good.  How  much  I  learnt  in  this 
fhort  Interview  !  for  fliort  it  feemed, 
though  it  mull  have  extended  over  a 
good  half  Hour.  He  fayd,  "  Per- 
"  haps,  young  Lady,  the  Time  may 
"  come    when    you    fhall     find    fafer 

"  Solace 


199 


1644. 


200 


1644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


ii 
a 
a 

u 

u 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
(( 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 
ii 


Solace  in  the  Exercife  of  the 
Charities  than  of  the  Affe6lions. 
Safer :  for,  not  to  conlider  how  a 
fuccefsfulle  or  unfuccefsfulle  Paf- 
fion  for  a  human  Being  of  Hke  In- 
firmities with  ourfelves,  oft  ftains 
and  darkens  and  Ihortens  the  Cur- 
rent of  Life,  even  the  chaflened 
Love  of  a  Mother  for  her  Child, 
as  of  0S2avia,  who  fwooned  at  '  Tu, 
Marcclliis^  eris^ — or  of  Wives  for 
their  Hulbands,  as  Artemijia  and 
Laodamia^  fometimes  amounting 
to  Idolatry — nay,  the  Love  of 
Friend  for  Friend,  with  alle 
its  fweet  Influences  and  ani- 
mating Tranfports,  yet  exceed- 
ing the  Reafonablenefs  of  that  of 
David  for  yonathan,  or  of  our 
blefled  Lord  for  St.  John  and  the 
Family  of  Lazarus,  may  procure 
far  more  Torment  than  Profit : 
even    if   the    Attachment    be    reci- 

"  procal. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


20I 


u 

a 

a 
a 

u 
<; 
(^ 
(( 
a 
a. 
(.(. 

a 
a 
a 
a 
a 

iC 

a 
a 

u 


procal,  and  well  grounded,  and 
equallie  matcht,  which  often  it 
is  not.  Then  interpofe  human 
Tempers,  and  Chills,  and  Heates, 
and  Slyghtes  fancied  or  intended, 
which  makes  the  vext  Soul  readie 
to  wifh  it  had  never  exifted.  How 
fmalle  a  Thing  is  a  human  Heart ! 
you  might  grafp  it  in  3^our  little 
Hand ;  and  yet  its  Strifes  and 
Agonies  are  enough  to  diftend  a 
Skin  that  fliould  cover  the  whole 
World  !  But,  in  the  Charities, 
what  Peace  !  yea,  they  diftill  Sweet- 
neffe  even  from  the  Unthankfulle, 
blelling  him  that  gives  more  than 
him  that  receives ;  while,  in  the 
Main,  they  arc  laid  out  at  better 
Intereft  than  our  warmeft  Affec- 
tions, and  bring  in  a  far  richer 
Harveft  of  Love  and  Gratitude. 
Yet,  let  our  Affe6tions  have  their 
fitting    Exercife    too,    flaying    our- 

"  felves 


1644. 


202 


1644- 


Aug.  lo. 


Maide7i  &  Married  Life 

"  felves  with  the  Refle6lion,  that 
"  there  is  greater  Happineffe,  after 
"  alle  Things  fayd,  in  loving  than 
"  in  being  loved,  fave  by  the  God  of 
•'  Love  who  firft  loved  us,  and  that 
"  they  who  dwell  in  Love  dwell  in 
"  Himr 

Then  he  went  on  to  fpeak  of 
the  manifold  A6ls  and  Divifions  of 
Charity ;  as  much,  methought,  in 
the  Vein  of  a  Poet  as  a  Preacher ; 
and  he  minded  me  much  of  that 
Scene  in  the  tenth  Book  of  the 
Fairie  ^uecne,  foe  lately  read  to  us 
by  Mr.  Agncw,  wherein  the  Red 
Crofs  Knight  and  Una  were  fhown 
Mercy  at  her  Work. 

A  Pack-horfe  from  Sheep/cote  juft 
reported,  laden  with  a  goodlie  Store 
of  Books,  befides  fundrie  fmaller 
Tokens  of  Rofe's  thoughtfuUe  Kind- 
nefle.       I     have     now    methodicallie 

divided 


of  ]Mary  Powell. 


divided  mv  Time  into  flated  Hours, 
of  Prayer,  Exercife,  Studdy,  Houfe- 
wiferie,  and  A6ls  of  Mercy,  on 
however  a  humble  Scale  ;  and  find 
mine  owne  Peace  of  Mind  thereby 
increafed  notwithftanding  the  Dark- 
neffe  of  public  and  Dullnefle  of 
private  Affairs. 

Made  out  the  Meaning  of  "  Cyno- 
"  fure "  and  "  Cimmerian  Dark- 
"neffe."    .... 

Full  fad  am  I  to  learn  that  Mr. 
Milton  hath  publifhed  another  Book 
in  Advocacy  of  Divorce.  Alas, 
why  will  he  chafe  againft  the  Chain, 
and  widen  the  cruel  Divifion  between 
us  ?  My  Father  is  outrageous  on 
the  Matter,  and  fpcaks  foe  paffion- 
atelie  of  him,  that  it  is  worfe  than 
not  fpeaking  of  him  at  alle,  which 
latelie  I  was  avifed  to  complain 
of. 

Dick 


203 


1644. 


Aug.  15. 


204 

i644- 
Aug.  30. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Dick  beginneth  to  fancie  himfelf 
in  Love  with  Audrey  Paice — an 
Attachment  that  will  doe  him  noe 
Good  :  his  Taftes  alreadie  want 
railing,  and  fhe  will  onlie  lower 
them,  I  feare, — a  comely,  romping, 
noilie  Girl,  that,  were  fhe  but  a 
Farmer's  Daughter,  woulde  be  the 
Life  and  Soul  of  alle  the  Whitfun- 
ales,  Harveft-Homes,  and  Hay- 
makings in  the  Country :  in  fhort, 
as  fond  of  idling  and  merrymaking 
as  I  once  was  myfelf :  onlie  I  never 
was  foe  riotous. 

I  beginne  to  fee  Faults  in  Dick 
and  Harry  I  never  faw  before.  Is 
my  Tafte  bettering,  or  my  Temper 
worfcnning  ?  At  alle  Events,  we 
have  noe  crofs  Words,  for  I  expert 
them  not  to  alter,  knowing  how 
hard   it  is  to   doe  foe  by  myfelf. 

I  look  forward  with  Pleafure  to 
my   Sheep/cote   Vilitt.      Dear  Mother 

returneth 


of  Mary  Powell. 


returneth     to-morrow.        Good     Dr. 

Taylor  hath  twice  taken  the  Trouble 

to    walk    over    from    Oxford    to    fee 

me,    but   he    hath   now   left,   and   we 

may   never  meet  agayn.     His  Vifitts 

have  beene  ver}-  precious  to  me  :    I 

think  he   hath   fome    Glimmering    of 

my    fad    Cafe  :    indeed,    who    knows 

it  not  ?     At  parting  he  fayd,  fmiling, 

he    hoped    he     fliould    yet    hear    of 

my    making    Offerings    to     Viriplaca 

on    Mount    Palati7ie ;     then    added, 

gravelie,    "  You    know    where    reall 

'  Offerings  may  be  made  and  alwaies 

'  accepted  —  Offerings  of  fpare  Half- 

'  hours       and     Five-minutes,     when 

'  we     fhut     the     Clofet     Door     and 

'  commune    with    our    own     Hearts 

'  and     are    ftill."        Alfoe     he    fayd, 

'  There     are      Sacrifices     to      make 

'  which    fometimes    wring    our   very 

'  Hearts  to   offer  ;    but  our  gracious 

'  God    accepts     them     nevertheleffe, 

"if 


205 


1644. 


2o6 


1644. 


Sept.  8. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

"  if  our  Feet  be  really  in  the  right 
"■  Path,  even  though,  like  C/iry/eis, 
"  we   look  back,  weeping." 

He  la3'd  ....  But  how  manie 
Things  as  beautifulle  and  true  did 
I  hear  my  Hufband  fay,  which 
paffed  by  me  like  the  idle  Wind  that 
I  regarded   not ! 

Harry  hath  juft  broughte  in  the 
News  of  his  Majefty's  Succefs  in  the 
Weft.  Lord  EJjfex's  Army  hath 
beene  completely  furrounded  by  the 
royal  Troops  \  himfelf  for6t  to  efcape 
in  a  Boat  to  Plymouth,  and  all  the 
Arms,  Artillerie,  Baggage,  &c.,  of 
Skippoit's  Men  have  fallen  into  the 
Hands  of  the  King.  Father  is  foe 
pleafed  that  he  hath  mounted  the 
Flag,  and  given  double  Allowance 
of  Ale  to  his  Men. 

I  wearie  to  hear  from  Robin. 

Sheep/cote, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Shecpfcote^  OH:.  lo. 
How  fweete  a  Picture  of  riirall 
Life  did  Sheep/cote  prefent,  when 
I  arrived  here  this  Afternoon  ! 
The  Water  being  now  much  out, 
the  Face  of  the  Countrie  pre- 
fented  a  new  Afpe6t :  there  were 
Men  threfhing  the  Walnut  Trees, 
Children  and  Women  putting  the 
Nuts  into  Oficr  Balkets,  a  Bailift' 
on  a  white  Horfe  overlooking  them, 
and  now  and  then  galloping  to 
another  Part}^  and  fplafliing  through 
the  Water.  Then  w^e  found  Mr. 
Agfiew  equallie  bufie  with  his  Apples, 
mounted  half  Way  up  one  of  the 
Trees,  and  throwing  Cherry  Pippins 
down  into  Ro/c's  Apron,  and  now 
and  then  making  as  though  he 
would  pelt  her :  onlie  fhe  dared 
him,  and  woulde  not  be  frightened. 
Pier    Donkey,     chewing    Apples     in 

the 


207 


1644. 


Oct.  10. 


2o8  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.  the  Corner,  with  the  Cider  running 
out  of  his  Mouth,  prefented  a  ludi- 
crous Image  of  Enjoyment,  and 
'twas  evidently  enhan6t  by  Giles' 
brufhing  his  rough  Coat  with  a 
Birch  Befom,  inftead  of  minding 
his  owne  BufineiTe  of  fweeping  the 
Walk.  The  Sun,  fhining  with 
mellow  Light  on  the  mown  Grafs 
and  frefli  dipt  Hornbeam  Hedges, 
made  even  the  commoneft  Obje6ts 
diftin6l  and  cheerfulle  ;  and  the  Air 
was  foe  cleare,  we  coulde  hear  the 
Village  Children  afar  off  at  theire 
Play. 

Rofe  had  abundance  of  delicious 
new  Honey  in  the  Comb,  and  Bread 
hot  from  the  Oven,  for  our  earlie 
Supper.  Dick  was  tempted  to  ftay 
too  late ;  however,  he  is  oft  as 
late,  now,  returning  from  Audrey 
Paice,  though  my  Mother  likes  it 
not. 

Ro/e 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Rofe  is  quite  in  good  Spiritts  now, 
and  we  s^oe  on  moft  harmoniouilie 
and  happilie.  Alle  our  Taftes  are 
now  in  common  ;  and  I  never  more 
enjoyed  this  Union  of  Seclulion 
and  Society.  Beiides,  Mr.  Agnew 
is  more  than  commonlie  kind,  and 
never  fpeaks  fternlie  or  fharplie  to 
me  now.  Indeed,  this  Morning, 
looking  thoughtfullie  at  me,  he  fayd, 
"  I  know  not,  Coiifin^  what  Change 
"  has  come  over  you,  but  you  are 
"  now  alle  that  a  wife  Man  coulde 
"  love  and  approve."  I  fayd.  It 
jnuft  be  owing  then  to  Dr.  Jeremy 
Taylor^  who  had  done  me  more 
goode,  it  woulde  feeme,  in  three 
LelTons,  than  he  or  Mr.  Miltoji 
coulde  imparte  in  thirt}'  or  three 
hundred.  He  fayd  he  was  inclined 
to  attribute  it  to  a  higher  Source 
than  that ;  and  yet,  there  was  doubt- 
lefle  a  great  Knack  in  teaching,  and 
p  there 


209 

1644. 

Oct.  15. 


2IO 


i644- 


Alaiden  &  Married  Life 

there  was  a  good  deal  in  liking  the 
Teacher.  He  had  alwaies  hearde 
the  Do6tor  fpoken  of  as  a  good, 
pious,  and  clever  Man,  though 
rather  too  high  a  Prelatilt.  I  fayd, 
"  There  were  good  Men  of  alle 
"  Sorts :  there  was  Mr.  Milton,  who 
"  woulde  pull  the  Church  down ; 
"  there  was  Mr.  Agnew,  who  woulde 
"  onlie  have  it  mended  ;  and  there 
"  was  Dr.  Jeremy  Taylor,  who  was 
"  content  with  it  as  it  floode." 
Then  Rofe  alkt  me  of  the  puritanicall 
Preachers.  Then  I  fhowed  her 
how  they  preached,  and  made  her 
laugh.  But  Mr.  Agnew  woulde  not 
laugh.  But  I  made  him  laugh  at 
lafl.  Then  he  was  angrie  with 
himfelf  and  with  me ;  only  not 
very  angry ;  and  fayd  I  had  a 
Riofht  to  a  Name  which  he  knew 
had  beene  given  me,  of  "  cleaving 
"  Mifchief "     I    knew    not    he    knew 

of 


of  Mary  Powell. 


211 


of  it,    and    was    checked,    though    I 
laught  it  off. 


1644. 


Walking  together,  this  Morning, 
Rofe  was  avifed  to  fay,  "  Did  Mr. 
'  Milton  ever  tell  you  the  Adventure 
'  of  the  Italian  Lady  ?  "  "  Rely  on 
'  it  he  never  did,"  fayd  Mr.  Agnew. 
—"  Milton  is  as  modeft  a  INIan  as 
'  ever  breathed — alle  Men  of  firft 
'  clafs  Genius  are  foe."  "  What 
'  was  the  Adventure  ?  "  I  alkt,  curi- 
ouflie.  "  Why,  I  neede  not  tell 
'  you,  Moll,  that  JoJm  Milton,  as  a 
'  Youth,  was  extremelie  handfome, 
'  even  beautifull.  His  Colour  came 
'  and  went  foe  like  a  Girl's,  that 
'  we  of  Chrijl'^s  College  ufed  to  call 
'  him  '  the  Lady,'  and  thereby  annoy 
'  him  noe  little.  One  fummer 
'  Afternoone  he  and  I  and  young 
'  King  {Lycidas,  you  know)  had 
'  ftarted    on    a    country    Walk,    (the 

"  Countrie 


Oct.  16. 


212  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.  "  Countrie  is  not  prett}^,  round 
"  Cambridge^  when  we  fell  in  with 
"  an  Acquaintance  whom  Mr.  Milton 
"  affe6led  not,  foe  he  fayd  he  would 
"  walk  on  to  the  firft  rifing  Ground 
"  and  wait  us  there.  On  this 
"  riling  Ground  flood  a  Tree,  be- 
"  neath  which  our  impatient  young 
"  Gentleman  prefentlie  caft  him- 
"  felf,  and,  having  walked  faft,  and 
"  the  Weather  being  warm,  foon 
falls  afleep  as  found  as  a  Top. 
Meantime,  King  and  I  quit  our 
"  Friend  and  faunter  forward  pretty 
"  eafilie.  Anon  comes  up  with  us 
"  a  Caroche,  with  fomething  I  know 
"  not  w^hat  of  outlandifh  in  its  Build  ; 
"  and  within  it,  two  Ladies,  one  of 
"  them  having  the  Fayreft  Face  I 
"  ever  fet  Eyes  on,  prefent  Com- 
"  panic  duly  excepted.  The  Ca- 
roche having  paffed  us.  King  and  I 
mutuallie    exprefs   our  Admiration, 

"and 


u 


u 


a 


u 


of  Mary  Powell. 


and  thereupon,  preferring  Turf 
to  Duft,  got  on  the  other  Side 
the  Hedge,  which  was  not  foe 
thick  but  that  we  could  make  out 
the  Caroche,  and  fee  the  Ladies 
defcend  from  it,  to  w^alk  up  the 
Hill.  Having  reached  the  Tree, 
they  paufed  in  Surprife  at  feeing 
Milto7i  afleep  beneath  it ;  and  in 
prettie  dumb  Shew,  which  we 
watcht  fharplie,  expreft  their  Ad- 
miration of  his  Appearance  and 
Pofture,  which  woulde  have  fuited 
an  Arcadian  well  enough.  The 
younger  Lady,  haftilie  taking 
out  a  Pencil  and  Paper,  wrote 
fomething  which  fhe  laughinglie 
fhewed  her  Companion,  and  then 
put  into  the  Sleeper's  Hand. 
Thereupon,  they  got  into  their 
Caroche,  and  drove  off.  King 
and  I,  dying  with  Curiofitie  to 
know    what     fhe     had    writ,    foon 

"  roufed 


213 


1644. 


214 

1644- 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


"  roufed  our  Friend  and  poffeft 
"  ourfelves  of  the  Secret.  The 
"  Verfes  ran  thus.    .    .    . 

Occki,  Stelle  mortali, 
Minijire  de  miei  Mali, 
Se,  clmiji^  nt'  uccidete, 
Aperti,  chef  arete? 


u 


Milton  coloured,  crumpled  them 
up,  and  yet  put  them  in  his 
"  Pocket ;  then  alkt  us  what  the 
"  Lady  was  like.  And  herein  lay 
"the  Pleafantry  of  the  Affair;  for 
"  I  truly  told  him  fhe  had  a  Pear- 
"  fhaped  Face,  lufhrous  black  Eyes, 
"  and  a  Skin  that  fhewed  '  il  bruno 
'^  il  del  non  toglie ;''  whereas,  King, 
"  in  his  Mifchief,  drew  a  fancy 
"  Portrait,  much  liker  you,  Moll, 
"  than  the  Incognita,  which  hit 
"  Milton  s  Tafte  foe  much  better, 
"  that  he  was  believed  for  his  Payns  ; 
"  and    then    he    declared    that   I    had 

"  beene 


of  Mary  Powell. 


215 


"  beene  defcribing  the  Duenna  !  .  .  . 
"  Some  Time  after,  when  Milton 
''  beganne  to  talk  of  vifiting  Italy ^ 
"  we  bantered  him,  and  faj'd  he  was 
"  going  to  look  for  the  Incognita. 
"  He  ftoode  it  well,  and  fayd,  '  Laugh 
"  on !  do  you  think  I  mind  you  ? 
"  Not  a  Bit.'     I  think  he  did." 

Juft  at  this  Turn,  Mr.  Ag7iezu 
ftumbled  at  fomething  in  the  long 
Grafs.  It  proved  to  be  an  old, 
ruftie  Horfe-piftol.  His  Counte- 
nance changed  at  once  from  gay  to 
pfrave.  "  I  thouo'ht  we  had  noe 
"  fuch  Things  hereabouts  3'et,"  cried 
he,  viewing   it  afkance. — "  I   fuppofe 


1644. 


"  I  mighte  as  well  think  I  had  found 
"  a  Corner  of  the  Land  where  there 
"  was  noe  originall  Sin."  And  foe, 
flung  it  over  the  Hedge. 

Firfl     clafs     Geniufes     are 

alwaies  modcft,  are  they  ?  —  Then 
I     fhould     fay     that     young    Italian 

Lady's 


2i6  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1644.       Lady's   Genius   was   not  of  the    firft 
Clafs. 


Oct.  19.  Speaking,   to-day,   of  Mr.   Waller , 

whom  I  had  once  feen  at  Uncle 
folui's,  Mr.  Agnew  fayd  he  had 
obtayned  the  Reputation  of  being 
one  of  our  fmootheft  Verfers,  and 
thereupon  brought  forth  one  or  two 
of  his  fmall  Pieces  in  Manufcript, 
which  he  read  to  Rofe  and  me. 
They  were  addreft  to  the  Lady 
Dorothy  Sydney;  and  certainHe  for 
fpecious  Flatterie  I  doe  not  fuppofe 
they  can  be  matcht ;  but  there  is 
noe  Imprefs  of  reall  Feeling  in  them. 
How  diverfe  from  my  Hufband's 
Verfing !  He  never  writ  any  mere 
Love-verfes,  indeede,  foe  far  as  I 
know  ;  but  how  much  truer  a  Sence 
he  hath  of  what  is  reallie  beauti- 
fulle  and  becoming  in  a  Woman 
than   Mr.  Waller  I     The   Lady  Alice 

Egerton 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Egertoii  mighte  have  beene  more 
juftlie  proud  of  the  fine  Things 
written  for  her  in  Comus,  than  the 
Lady  Dorothea  of  anie  of  the  fine 
Things  written  of  her  by  this  cour- 
tier-Hke  Poet.  For,  to  fay  that  Trees 
bend  down  in  homage  to  a  Woman 
when  fhe  walks  under  them,  and 
that  the  healing  Waters  of  Tonbridge 
were  placed  there  by  Nature  to 
compenfate  for  the  fatal  Pride  of 
Sacharifa,  is  foe  fullefome  and  un- 
true as  noe  Woman,  not  devoured  by 
Conceite,  coulde  endure ;  whereas, 
the  Check  that  Villanie  is  fenfible 
of  in  the  Prefence  of  Virtue,  is  moft 
nobly,  not  extravagantlie,  exprefi; 
by  Comus.  And  though  my  Hufband 
be  almoft  too  lavifh,  even  in  his 
fhort  Pieces,  of  claffic  Allufion  and 
Perfonation,  yet,  like  antique  Statues 
and  Bufts  well  placed  in  fome  flatelie 
Pleafaunce,  they  arc  alwaies  appro- 
priate 


217 
1644. 


n 


2i8  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

164-1..  priate  and  gracefulle,  which  is  more 
than  can  be  fayd  of  Mr.  Waller'' s 
overftrayned  Figures  and  Metaphors. 

Oct.  20.  News  from  Home :  alle  well. 
Atcdrcy  Paice  on  a  Vifitt  there.  I 
hope  Mother  hath  not  put  her  into 
my  Chamber,  but  I  know  that  flie 
hath  fctt  fo  manie  Trays  full  of 
Spearmint,  Peppermint,  Camomiles, 
and  Poppie-hcads  in  the  blue  Cham- 
ber to  dr}',  that  flie  will  not  care  to 
move  them,  nor  have  the  Window 
opened  left  they  fhoulde  be  blown 
aboute.  I  wifli  I  had  turned  the 
Key  on  my  ebony  Cabinett. 


Oct.  24.  Richard  and  Aitdrey  rode  over 
here,  and  fpent  a  noiiie  Afternoone. 
Rofc  had  the  Goofe  drelTed  which  I 
know  Hie  meant  to  have  referved  for 
to-morrow.  Clover  was  in  a  Heat, 
which   one  would   have  thoughte  he 

needed 


of  Mary  Powell. 


needed  not  to  have  beene,  with  carry- 
ing a  Lady ;  but  Atidrcy  is  heavie. 
She  treats  Dick  like  a  Boy ;  and, 
indeede  he  is  not  much  more  ;  but 
he  is  quite  taken  up  with  her.  I 
find  fhe  lies  in  the  blue  Chamber, 
which  fhe  fays  fmells  rarelie  of  Herbs. 
They  returned  not  till  late,  after  fun- 
drie  Hints  from  Mr.  Ao-new. 

Alas,  alas,  Robbts  Silence  is  too 
forrowfullie  explained !  He  hath 
beene  fent  Home  foe  ill  that  he  is 
like  to  die.  This  Report  I  have 
from  Diggcry,  juft  come  over  to 
fetch  mc,  with  whom  I  ftart,  foe 
foone  as  his  Horfe  is  bated.  Lord, 
have  Mercie  on  Robm. 

The  Children  are  alle  fent  away 
to  keep  the  Houfe  quiete. 


Oh, 


At  Robin  s  Bedjide. 
woefulle     Sisfht  !      I    had    not 

known 


to 


219 


1644. 


Oct.  27. 


Saturday 

Night. 


220 


1644. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

known  that  pale  Face,  had  I  met  it 
unawares.  So  thin  and  wan,  —  and 
he  hath  fliot  up  into  a  tall  Stripling 
during  the  laft  few  Months.  Thefe 
two  Nights  of  Watching  have  tried 
me  forelie,  but  I  would  not  be 
witholden  from  fitting  up  with  him 
yet  agayn  —  what  and  if  this  Night 
fhould  he  his  laft?  how  coulde  I  for- 
give myfelf  for  Deeping  on  now  and 
taking  my  Reft  ?  The  firft  Night, 
he  knew  me  not ;  yet  it  was  bitter- 
fweet  to  hear  him  chiding  at  fweet 
Moll  for  not  coming.  Yefternight 
he  knew  me  for  a  While,  kiffed  me, 
and  fell  into  an  heavie  Sleepe,  with 
his  Hand  locked  in  mine.  We 
hoped  the  Crifis  was  come ;  but 
'twas  not  foe.  He  raved  much  of 
a  Man  alle  in  Red,  riding  hard  after 
him.  I  minded  me  of  thofe  Words, 
"  The  Enemy  fayd,  I  will  overtake, 
"  I  will  purfue," — and,  noe  one  being 

by, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


by,  fave  the  unconfcious  Sufferer,  I 
kneeled  down  befide  him,  and  moft 
earneftlie  prayed  for  his  Deliver- 
ance from  all  fpirituall  Adverfaries. 
When  I  lookt  up,  his  Eyes,  larger 
and  darker  than  ever,  were  fixt  on 
me  with  a  ftrange,  wiftfulle  Stare, 
but  he  fpake  not.  From  that 
Moment  he  was  quiete. 

The  Do6tor  thought  him  rambling 
this  Morning,  though  I  knew  he  was 
not,  when  he  fpake  of  an  Angel  in 
a  long  white  Garment  watching 
over  him  and  kneeling  by  him  in 
the  Night. 

Poor  Nell  fitteth  up  with  Mother 
to-ni"-ht — riofht  thankfulle  is  fhe  to 
find  that  fhe  can  be  of  anie  Ufe:  fhe 
fays  it  feems  foe  ftrange  that  fhe 
ftiould  be  able  to  make  any  Return 
for  my  Kindneffe.  I  muft  fleep  to- 
night, that  I  may  watch  to-morrow. 

The 


221 


1644. 


Sunday 
Evening. 


222 


i644- 


Monday. 


Tuesday. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

The  Servants  are  nigh  fpent,  and 
are  bcfides  fooHfhlie  afrayd  of  Infec- 
tion. I  hope  Rofe  prays  for  me. 
Soe  drowfie  and  duUe  arn  I,  as  fcarce 
to  be  able  to  pray  for  myfelf. 

Rofe  and  Mr.  Agneiv  come  to  abide 
with  us  for  fome  Days.  How  thank- 
fulle  am  I  !     Tears  have  relieved  me. 

Robin  worfe  to-day.  Father  quite 
fubdued.  Mr.  Agnew  will  lit  up 
to-night,  and  inlifhs  on  my  fleeping. 

Crab  howled  under  m}^  Window 
yefternight  as  he  did  before  my 
Wedding.  I  hope  there  is  Nothing 
in  it.  Harry  got  up  and  beat  him, 
and  at  lafh  put  him  in  the  Stable. 

After  two  Nights'  Reft,  I  feel 
quite  ftrengthened  and  reftored  this 
Morning.  Deare  Rofe  read  me  to 
fleep  in  her  low,  gentle  Voice,  and 
then    lay  down    by   my    Side,    twice 

ftepping 


of  Mary  Powell. 


ftepping  into  Robin's  Chamber  during 
the  Night,  and  bringing  me  News 
that  all  was  well.  Relieved  in 
Mind,  I  flept  heavilie  nor  woke  till 
late.  Then,  returned  to  the  lick 
Chamber,  and  found  Ro/e  bathing 
dear  Robhi's  Temples  with  Vinegar, 
and  changinCT  his  Pillow — his  thin 
Hand  relied  on  Mr.  Agizew,  on 
whom  he  lookt  with  a  compofed, 
collected  Gaze.  Slowlie  turned  his 
Eyes  on  me,  and  faintlie  fmiled,  but 
fpake  not. 

Poor  dear  Mother  is  ailing  now. 
I  fate  with  her  and  Father  fome 
Time  ;  but  it  was  a  true  Relief  when 
Ro/e  took  my  Place  and  let  me  return 
to  the  lick  Room.  Ro/e  hath  alreadie 
made  feveral  little  Changes  for  the 
better ;  improved  the  Ventilation  of 
Robhi's  Chamber,  and  prevented  his 
I  hearing  foe  manie  Noifes.  Alfoe, 
fhowed   me   how  to  make  a  pleafant 

cooling 


223 


1644. 


224 


i644- 


Same 
Evening. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

cooling  Drink,  which  he  likes  better 
than  the  warm  Liquids,  and  which 
fhe  affures  me  he  may  take  with 
perfe6l  Safetie. 

Robin  vext,  even  to  Tears,  becaufe 
the  Do6lor  forbids  the  Ufe  of  his 
cooling  Drink,  though  it  hath  cer- 
tainlie  abated  the  Fever.  At  his 
Wifli  I  ftept  down  to  intercede  with 
the  Do6lor,  then  clofetted  with  my 
Father,  to  difcourfe,  as  I  fuppofed, 
of  Robi7is  Symptoms.  Infteade  of 
which,  found  them  earneftlie  en- 
gaged on  the  never-ending  Topick 
of  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads.  I 
was  chafed  and  cut  to  the  Heart, 
yet  what  can  poor  Father  do  ;  he  is 
ufelefs  in  the  Sick-room,  he  is  wearie 
of  Sufpenfe,  and  'tis  well  if  publick 
Affairs  can  divert  him  for  an  odd 
Half-hour. 

The    Do6tor    would    not    hear    of 

Robin 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Robin  taking  the  cooling  Beverage, 
and  warned  me  that  his  Death 
w^oulde  be  upon  my  Head  if  I  per- 
mitted him  to  be  chilled  :  foe  what 
could  I  doc  ?  Poor  Robin  very  im- 
patient in  confequence  ;  and  raving 
towards  Midnight.  Rofe  infifted  in 
taking  the  laft  half  of  my  Watch. 

I  know  not  that  I  w^as  ever  more 
forelie  exercifed  than  during  the 
firft  Half  of  this  Night.  Robin^  in 
his  crazie  Fit,  would  leave  his  Bed, 
and  was  foe  ftrong  as  nearlie  to 
mafter  Nell  and  me,  and  I  feared  I 
muft  have  called  Richard.  The 
next  Minute  he  fell  back  as  weak 
as  a  Child :  we  covered  him  up 
warm,  and  he  was  overtaken  either 
with  Stupor  or  Sleep.  Earneftlie 
did  I  pray  it  might  be  the  latter, 
and  conduce  to  his  healing.  After- 
wards, there  being  writing  Imple- 
ments at  Hand,  I  wrote  a  Letter 
Q  .  to 


225 


1644. 


226 


i644- 


Wednesday. 


jMaiden  &  Married  Life 

to  Mr.  Milton^  which,  though  the 
Fancy  of  lending  it  foon  died_  awa}^, 
yet  eafed  my  Mind.  When  not  in 
Prayer,  I  often  find  myfelf  lilently 
talking  to  him. 

Waking  late  after  my  fcant  Night's 
Reft,  I  found  mv  Breakfafte  neatlie 
layd  out  in  the  little  Antechamber, 
to  prevent  the  Fatigue  of  going 
down  Stairs.  A  Handfulle  of  Au- 
tumn Flowers  befide  my  Plate,  left 
me  in  noe  Doubt  it  was  Rofe's 
doing ;  and  Mr.  Agnew  writing  at 
the  Window,  told  me  he  had  per- 
fuaded  my  Father  to  goe  to  Shotover 
with  Dick.  Then  laying  afide  his 
Pen,  ftcpt  into  the  Sick-chamber 
for  the  lateft  News,  which  was 
good :  and,  fitting  next  me,  talked 
of  the  Progrefs  of  Robin^s  Illneffe  in 
a  grave  yet  hopefulle  Manner ; 
leading,  as  he  chieflie  does,  to  high 

and 


of  Mary  Powell. 


227 


and  unearthlie  Sources  of  Confola- 
tion.  He  advifed  me  to  take  a  Turn 
in  the  frefh  Ayr,  though  but  as  far 
as  the  two  Junipers,  before  I  entered 
Robins  Chamber,  which,  fomewhat 
relu6lantlie,  I  did  ;  but  the  bright 
Daylight  and  warm  Sun  had  no 
good  EtTe6l  on  my  Spiritts  :  on  the 
Contrarie,  nothing  in  blythe  Nature 
feeming  in  unifon  with  my  SadneiTe, 
Tears   flowed   without   relieving   me. 

What    a    folemne,    pompous 

Prigge  is  this  Doctor !  He  cries 
"  humph  !  "  and  "  aye  !  "  and  bites 
his  Nails  and  fcrews  his  Lips 
together,  but  I  don't  believe  he 
underftands  foe  much  of  Phyfick, 
after  alle,  as  Mr.  Agnew. 

Fathei^  came  home  fulle  of  the 
Rebels'  Doings,  but  as  for  me,  I 
fhouldc  hear  them  thundering  at  our 
Gate  with  Apathie,  except  infofar 
as   I  feared  their  diftrcffing  Robin. 

Aiidrey 


1644. 


228 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1644.  Audrey  rode  over  with  her  Father, 

this  Morn,  to  make  Enquiries.  She 
miaht  have  come  fooner  had  Ihe 
meant  to  be  anie  '  reall  Ufe  to  a 
Family  flie  has  thought  of  entering. 
Had  Ro/e  come  to  our  Help  as  late 
in  the  Day,  we  had  been  poorlie 
off. 

Thursday.  May  Heaveu  in  its  Mercy  fave  us 
from  the  evil  Confequence  of  this 
new  Mifchance !  —  Richard^  jealous 
at  being  allowed  fo  little  Share  in 
nurfmg  Robin,  whom  he  fayd  he 
loved  as  well  as  anie  did,  would  fit 
up  with  him  laft  Night,  along  with 
Mother.  Twice  I  heard  him  fnoring, 
and  ftept  in  to  prevail  on  him  to 
change  Places,  but  coulde  not  get 
him  to  ftir.  A  third  Time  he  fell 
afleep,    and,    it    feems.    Mother   flept 


too  ;    and    Robin,   in    his    Fever,   got 
out  of  Bed  and  drank  near  a  Quart 

of 


of  jNIary  Powell. 


229 


of  cokle  Water,  waking  Dick  by 
fettino^  down  the  Pitcher.  Of  courfe 
the  Buftle  foon  reached  my  liftening 
Ears.  Dick,  to  do  him  Juftice,  was 
frightened  enough,  and  Hole  away 
to  his  Bed  without  a  Word  of  De- 
fence ;  but  poor  Mother,  who  had 
been  equallie  off  her  Watch,  made 
more  Noife  about  it  than  was  good 
for  Robin ;  who,  nevertheleffe,  we 
having  warmlie  covered  up,  burft 
into  a  profufc  Heat,  and  fell  into  a 
found  Sleep,  which  hath  now  holdcn 
him  manie  Hours.  Mr.  Acnczu  au- 
gureth  favourablie  of  his  waking, 
but  we  await  it  in  prayerfuUe 
Anxietie. 

The    Crilis    is    paft !    and    the 

Doftor  fayeth  he  alle  along  expe6ted 
it  laft  Night,  which  I  cannot  believe, 
but  Father  and  Mother  doe.  At  alle 
Events,  praifed  be  Heaven,  there  is 
now    hope     that    deare    Robin    may 

recover. 


1644. 


230 


i644- 


Saturday. 


Maiden  &  Mai^ried  Life 

recover.  Rofe  and  I  have  mingled 
Tears,  Smiles,  and  Thankfgivings ; 
Mr.  Ag7iew  hath  expreffed  Gratitude 
after  a  more  colle6led  Manner,  and 
endeavoured  to  check  the  fome- 
what  ill-governed  Expreffion  of  Joy 
throughout  the  Houfe ;  warning 
the  Servants,  but  efpeciallie  Dick 
and  Harry,  that  Robin  may  yet  have 
a  Relapfe. 

With  what  Tranfport  have  I  fat 
befide  dear  Rodin^s  Bed,  returning 
his  fixed,  earneft,  thankfulle  Gaze, 
and  anfwering  the  feeble  Preffure  of 
his  Hand  !  —  Going  into  the  Studdy 
juft  now,  I  found  Rather  crying  like 
a  Child — the  firft  Time  I  have 
known  him  give  Way  to  Tears 
during  Robin  s  Ilneffe.  Mr.  Agnew 
prefentlie  came  in,  and  compofed 
him  better  than  I  coulde. 

Robin     better,    though     ftill    very 

weak. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


weak.       Had     his     Bed     made,    and 
took  a  few  Spoonfuls  of  Broth. 

A  very  different  Sabbath  from  the 
Lift.  Though  Robin^s  Conftitution 
hath  received  a  Shock  it  may  never 
recover,  his  comparative  Amend- 
ment fills  us  with  Thankfulneffe ; 
and  our  chaftened  Sufpenfe  hath  a 
fweet  Solemnitie  and  Truftfulleneffe 
in  it,  which  pals  Underftanding. 

Mr.  Agiiezu  condu6ted  our  Devo- 
tions. This  Morning,  I  found  him 
praying  with  Robin — I  queftion  if  it 
were  for  the  firft  Time.  Robin  look- 
ing on  him  with  Eyes  of  fuch  fedate 
Affe6tion  ! 

Robin  ftill  progreffing.  Dear  Rofe 
and  Mr.  Agncw  leave  us  to-morrow, 
but  they  will  foon  come  agayn. 
Oh  faithful  Friends ! 


231 


1644. 


Sunday. 


Thursday. 


Can 


232  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1646.  Can     Aniething    equall     the     def- 

Aprii.  perate  Ingratitude  of  the  human 
Heart  ?  Teftifie  of  It,  Journall, 
agaynfl  me.  Here  did  I,  throughout 
the  inceffant  Cares  and  Anxieties  of 
Robins  Sickneffe,  find,  or  make 
Time,  for  ahnofte  daihe  Record  of 
my  Trouble ;  fince  which,  whole 
Months  have  pafTed  without  foe 
much  as  a  fcrawled  Ejaculation  of 
Thankfulleneffe  that  the  Sick  hath 
beene  made  whole. 

Yet,  not  that  that  thankfulleneffe 
hath  beene  unfelt,  nor,  though  un- 
written, unexpreft.  Nay,  O  Lord, 
deeplie,  deeplie  have  I  thanked  thee 
for  thy  tender  Mercies.  And  he 
healed  foe  flowlie,  that  Sufpenfe, 
as  'twere,  wore  itfelf  out,  and  gave 
Place  to  a  dull,  mournful  Perfuafion 
that  an  .Hydropfia  would  wafte  him 
away,  though  more  flowlie,  yet  noe 
lefs  furelie  than  the  Fever. 

Soe 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Weeks 


lengthened 


into 


Soe 

Months,  I  mighte  well  fay  Years, 
they  feemed  foe  long !  and  ftille  he 
feemed  to  neede  more  Care  and 
Tenderneffe  ;  till,  juft  as  he  and  I 
had  learnt  to  fay,  "Thy  Will,  O 
"  Lord,  be  done,"  he  began  to  gain 
Flefli,  his  craving  Appetite  mode- 
rated, yet  his  Food  nourifhed  him, 
and  by   God's  blcffing  he  recovered! 

During  that  heavie  Seafon  of  Pro- 
bation,  our  Hearts  were  unlocked, 
and  we  fpake  oft  to  one  another  of 
Things  in  Heaven  and  Things  in 
Earth.  Afterwards,  our  mutuall 
Referves  returned,  and  Rodin,  me- 
thinks,  became  fhyer  than  before, 
but  there  can  never  ceafe  to  be  a 
dearer  Bond  between  us.  Now 
we  are  apart,  I  aim  to  keep  him 
mindfulle  of  the  high  and  holie 
Refolutions  he  formed  in  his  Sick- 
neffe  ;  and  though  he  never  anfwers 

thefe 


233 


1646. 


234  JMaidcii  &  Married  Life 

1646.  thefe  Portions  of  my  Letters,  I  am 
avifed  to  think  he  finds  them  not 
difpleafing. 

Now  that  Oxfo7'd  is  Hke  to  be 
befieged,  my  Life  is  more  confined 
than  ever ;  yet  I  cannot,  and  will 
not  leave  Father  and  Mother^  even 
for  the  Agnews^  while  they  are  foe 
much  harraffed.  This  Morning, 
my  Father  hath  received  a  Letter 
from  Sir  Thomas  Glemham^  requiring 
a  larger  Qiiantitie  of  winnowed 
Wheat,  than,  with  alle  his  Loyaltie, 
he  likes  to  fend. 

April  23.  Ralph  Hewlett  hath  juft  looked 
in  to  fay,  his  Father  and  Mother 
have  in  Safetie  reached  London^ 
where  he  will  fliortlie  joyn  them, 
and  to  afk,  is  there  anie  Service  he 
can  doe  me  ?  A}-,  truly ;  one  that 
I  dare  not  name  —  he  can  bring  me 
Word  of  Mr.  Milton,  of  his   Health, 

of 


of  Mary  Powell. 


of   his    Looks,    of   his    Speech,    and 

whether 

Ralph   fhall   be    noe    Meflenger  of 
mine. 

Talking  of  Money  Matters  this 
Morning,  Mother  fayd  Something 
that  brought  Tears  into  mine  Eyes. 
She  obferved  that  though  my  Huf- 
band  had  never  beene  a  Favourite  of 
hers,  there  was  one  Thing  wherein 
fhe  muft  fay  he  had  behaved  gene- 
roufly  :  he  had  never,  to  this  Da}^, 
afkt  Father  for  the  500/.  which  had 
brought  him,  in  the  firfh  Inftance, 
to  For-ejl  Hill,  (he  having  promifed 
old  ]\Ir.  Milton  to  try  to  get  the 
Debt  paid,)  and  the  which,  on  his 
afking  for  my  Hand,  Father  tolde 
him  flioulde  be  made  over  fooner  or 
later,  in  lieu  of  Dower, 

Did    Rofe   know    the    Bitter-fweet 
fhe  was  imparting  to    me,  when  flie 

gave 


235 


1646. 


April  24. 


236 

1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

gave  me,  by  Stealth  as  'twere,  the 
latelie  publlfht  Volume  of  my  Huf- 
band's  Englijli  Verfing  ?  It  hath 
beene  my  Companion  ever  lince  ; 
for  I  had  perufed  the  Comus  but  by 
Snatches,  under  the  Difadvantage 
of  crabbed  Manufcript.  This  Mor- 
ning, to  ufe  his  owne  deare  Words: — 

I  fat  tne  down  to  watch,  tcpon  a  Baizk, 
Wit/i  Ivy  canopied,  and  interwove 
With  flaiuiting  Honeyfuckle,  and  be- 

ganne, 
Wrapt  in  apiea/ing  Fit  of  Melancholic, 
To  7neditate. 

The  Text  of  my  Meditation  was 
this,  drawne  from  the  fame  loved 
Source: — 

This  I  hold  firm  ; 

Virtue  inay  be  aj/ayled,  but  never  hurt, 

Surprifed  by  unjtfl  Force,  but  not  e7t- 

t  lira  lied  ; 

Yea. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Yea^  even  that  which  Mi/chief  meant 

mqfl  Harni^ 
Shall,  in  the  happy  Trial,  prove  inojl 

Gloiy. 


237 


1646. 


But  who  hath  fuch  Virtue  ?  have 
I  ?  hath  he  ?  No,  we  have  both 
gone  aftray,  and  done  amifs,  and 
wrought  finfullie  ;  but  I  worft,  I 
firfl,  therefore  more  neede  that  I 
humble  m3'felf,  and  pray  for  both. 

There  is  one,  more  unhappie, 
perhaps,  than  either.  The  King, 
moft  misfortunate  Gentleman !  who 
knoweth  not  which  Way  to  turn, 
nor  whom  to  truft.  Lafh  Time  I 
faw  him,  methought  never  was  there 
a  Face  foe  full  of  Woe. 


The  King  hath  efcaped  !  He 
gave  Orders  overnight  at  alle  the 
Gates,  for  three  Perfons  to  pafle ; 
and,  accompanied  onlic  by  Mr.  AJIi- 

btirnham. 


May  6. 


238 


1646. 


Saturday 
Even. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

burnham^  and  Mr.  Htcrd,  rode  forthe 
at  Nightfalle,  towards  London.  Sure, 
he  will  not  throw  himfelfe  into  the 
Hands  of  Parliament  ? 

Mother  is  affrighted  beyond  Mea- 
fure  at  the  near  Neighbourhood  of 
Fairfax's  Army,  and  entreats  Father 
to  leave  alle  behind,  and  flee  with 
us  into  the  City.  It  may  yet  be 
done  )   and  we  alle  fliare  her  Feares. 

Packing  up  in  greate  hafhe,  after 
a  confufed  Family  Council,  wherein 
fome  frefli  Accounts  of  the  Rebels' 
Advances,  broughte  in  by  Diggory, 
made  my  Father  the  fooner  confent 
to  a  ftolen  Flight  into  Oxford,  Dig- 
goiy  being  left  behind  in  Charge. 
Time  of  Flight,  to-morrow  after 
Dark,  the  Puritans  being  bufie  at 
theire  Sermons.  The  better  the 
Day,  the  better  the  Deede.  —  Heaven 
make  it  foe  ! 

^  Oxfoi^d ; 


of  ]Mary  Powell. 


239 


Oxford ;  in  moll  confined  and  un- 
plealant  Lodgings  ;  but  noe  Matter ; 
manie  better  and  richer  than  our- 
fclvcs  fare  worfe,  and  our  King  hath 
not  where  to  lay  his  Head.  'Tis  fayd 
he  hath  turned  his  Courfe  towards 
Scotland.  There  are  Souldiers  in 
this  Houfe,  whofe  Noife  diftra6ts 
us.  Alfoe,  a  poor  Widow  Lady, 
whofe  Huiband  hath  beene  flayn  in 
thefe  Wars.  The  Children  have 
taken  a  feveriih  Complaynt,  and 
require  inceffant  tending.  Theire 
Beds  are  far  from  cleane,  in  too  little 
Space,  and  ill  aired. 


1646. 

Tuesday. 


The  Widow  Lady  goes  about 
vifiting  the  Sick,  and  would  faine 
have  my  Companie.  The  Streets 
have  difpleafed  me,  being  foe  fulle 
of  Men  ;  however,  in  a  clofe  Hoode 
I  have  accompanied  her  fundrie 
Times.        'Tis     a    good     Soul,     and 

full 


May  20. 


240  Maidefi  &  Married  Life 

1646.       full     of    pious     Works     and     Alms- 
deedes. 


May 27th.  Diggory  hath  found  his  Way  to 
us,  alle  difmaied,  and  bringing  Dif- 
may  with  him,  for  the  Rebels  have 
taken  and  ranfacked  our  Houfe,  and 
turned  him  forthe.  "  A  Plague  on 
"  thefe  Wars  !  "  .  as  Father  fays. 
What  are  we  to  doe,  or  how 
live,  defpoyled  of  alle  ?  Father 
hath  loft,  one  Way  and  another, 
fince  the  Civil  War  broke  out, 
three  thoufand  Pounds,  and  is  now 
nearlie  beggared.  Mother  weeps 
bitterlie,  and  Father''s  Countenance 
hath  fallen  more  than  ever  I  faw 
it  before.  "  Nine  Children ! "  he 
exclaimed,  juft  now ;  "  and  onlie 
"  one  provided  for  !  "  His  Eye  fell 
upon  me  for  a  Moment,  with  lefs 
TenderneiTe  than  ufuall,  as  though 
he   wiflied    me   in    Alder/gate   Street. 

I'm 


of  Mary  Powell. 


I'm  fure  I  wifh  I  were  there, — 
not  becaufe  Father  is  in  Misfortune  ; 
oh,  no. 

The  Parliament  requireth  our  un- 
fortunate Kino^  to  iffue  Orders  to 
this    and     alle     his    other    Garrifons, 


commanding    theire    Surrender  \ 


and 


Father,  finding  this  is  likelie  to  take 
Place  forthwith,  is  bulled  in  having 
himfelf  comprifed  within  the  Articles 
of  Surrender.  'Twill  be  hard  in- 
deede,  fhoulde  this  be  denied.  His 
Eftate  Ij'ing  in  the  King's  Quarters, 
how  coulde  he  doe  lefs  than  adhere 
to  his  Majefty's  Partie  during  this 
unnatural  1  War  ?  I  am  fure  Mother 
grudged  the  Royalifts  everie  Goofe 
and  Turkey  they  had  from  our  Yard. 

Praifed    be    Heaven,   deare    Father 

I  hath  iuft  received   Sir   Thomas  Fair- 

fax^s     Prote6lion,     empowering    him 

R  quietlie 


241 


1646. 


June. 


June  27th. 


242 


1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

quietlie  and  without  let  to  goe 
forthe  "  with  Servants,  Hoiies, 
"  Arms,  Goods,  etc."  to  "•  London 
"  or  elfewhere,"  whitherfoever  he 
will.  And  thouofh  the  Prote6lion 
extends  but  over  fix  Months,  at  the 
Expiry  of  which  Time,  Father  muft 
take  Meafures  to  embark  for  fome 
Place  of  Refuge  beyond  Seas,  3'et 
who  knows  what  may  turn  up  in 
thofe  fix  Months !  The  King  may 
enjoy  his  Owne  agayn.  Meantime, 
we  immediatelie  leave  Oxford. 

Forefl  Hill. 
At  Home  agayn ;  and  what  a 
Home!  Everiething  to  feeke,  everie- 
thing  mifplaced,  broken,  abufed,  or 
gone  altogether !  The  Gate  off  its 
Hinges ;  the  Stone  Balls  of  the 
Pillars  overthrowne,  the  great  Bell 
flolen,  the  dipt  Junipers  grubbed 
up,    the    Sun-diall   broken  !      Not    a 

Hen 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Hen  or  Chicken,  Duck  or  Duckling, 
left !  Crab  half-ftarved,  and  foe  glad 
to  fee  us,  that  he  dragged  his  Kennel 
after  him.  Daify  and  Blanch  making 
fuch  piteous  Moans  at  the  Paddock 
Gate,  that  I  coulde  not  bear  it,  but 
helped  Letfice  to  milk  them.  Within 
Doors,  everie  Room  fmelling  of  Beer 
and  Tobacco ;  Cupboards  broken 
open,  etc.  On  my  Chamber  Floor, 
a  greafy  fteeple-crowned  Hat ! 
Threw  it  forthe  from  the  Window 
with  a  Pair  of  Tongs. 

Mother  goes  about  the  Houfe 
weeping.  Father  fits  in  his  broken 
Arm-chair,  the  Picture  of  Difconfo- 
latenefs.  I  fee  the  Agnews^  true 
Friends !  riding  hither ;  and  with 
them  a  Third,  who,  methinks,  is 
Ro/e''s  brother  Ralph. 


London.   St.  Martiri^s  le  Grand. 
Trembling,     weeping,      hopefulle, 

difmaied. 


243 

1646. 


r" 


244 


1646. 


Twelve  at 

Night. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

difmaied,  here  I  fit  in  mine  Uncle's 
hired  Houfe,  alone  in  a  Crowd, 
feared  at  mine  owne  Precipitation, 
readie  to  wifh  myfelfe  back,  unable 
to  refolve,  to  reflect,  to  pray  .... 

Alle  is  filent ;  even  in  the  latelie 
bufie  Streets.  Why  art  thou  caft 
down,  my  Heart?  why  art  thou  dif- 
quieted  within  me  ?  Hope  thou 
ftille  in  the  Lord,  for  he  is  the  Joy 
and  Light  of  thy  Countenance. 
Thou  haft  beene  long  of  learning 
him  to  be  fuch.  Oh,  forget  not 
thy  Leffon  novv^ !  Thy  beft  "Friend 
hath  fanftioned,  nay,  counfelled  this 
Step,  and  overcome  alle  Obftacles, 
and  provided  the  Means  of  this 
Journey  ;  '  and  to-morrow  at  Noone, 
if  Events  prove  not  crofs,  I  fhall 
have  Speech  of  him  whom  my  Soul 
loveth.  To-night,  let  me  watch, 
faft,  and  pray. 

How 


of  Mary  Powell. 


How  awfulle  it  is  to  beholde  a 
Man  weepe!  mine  owne  Tears,  when 
I  think  thereon,  well  forthe 

Rofe  was  a  true  Friend  when  fhe 
fayd,  "  Our  prompt  Affe6lions  are  oft 
"  our  wife  Counfellors."  Soe,  fhe 
fuggefted  and  advifed  alle;  wrung 
forthe  my  Father's  Confent,  and  fett 
me  on  my  Way,  even  putting  Money 
in  my  Purfe.  Well  for  me,  had 
fhe  beene  at  my  Journey's  End  as 
well  as  its  Beofinninsj. 

'Stead  of  which,  here  was  onlie 
mine  Aunt  \  a  flow,  timid,  uncertayn 
Soule,  who  proved  but  a  broken 
Reed  to  lean  upon. 

Soe,  alle  I  woulde  have  done 
arighte  v^ent  croffe,  the  Letter 
never  delivered,  the  Meffage  delayed 
till  he  had  left  Home,  foe  that  me- 
thought  I  flioulde  goe  crazie. 

While  the  Boy,  ftammering  in 
his    lame    Excufes,    bore    iny   chafed 

Reproaches 


245 


1646. 

Friday;  at 

Night. 


246 

1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

Reproaches  the  more  humbHe  be- 
caufe  he  faw  he  had  done  me  fome 
grievous  Hurt,  though  he  knew 
not  what,  a  Voice  in  the  adjacent 
Chamber  in  alternation  with  mine 
Uncle's  drove  the  Blood  of  a  fuddain 
from  mine  Heart,  and  then  fent  it 
back  with  impetuous  Rufh,  for  I 
knew  the  Accents  right  well. 

Enters  mine  Aunt,  alle  flurried, 
and  hufliing  her  Voice.  "  Oh, 
"  Niece,  he  whom  you  wot  of  is 
"  here,  but  knoweth  not  you  are  at 
"  Hand,  nor  in  London.  Shall  I  tell 
"him?" 

But  I  gafped,  and  held  her  back 
by  her  Skirts  ;  then,  with  a  fuddain 
fecret  Prayer,  or  Cry,  or  maybe, 
Wifli,  as  'twere,  darted  up  unto 
Heaven  for  Afllftance,  I*  took  noe 
Thought  what  I  fhoulde  fpeak  when 
confronted  with  him,  but  opening 
the     Door     between     us,     he     then 

fhanding 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Handing  with  his  Back  towards  it, 
rufhed  forth  and  to  his  Feet  —  there 
fank,  in  a  Gulli  of  Tears;  for  not 
one  Word  coulde  I  proffer,  nor  foe 
much  as  look  up. 

A    quick    Hand    was    laid    on    my 
Head,  on   my   Shoulder — as  quicklie 

removed and  I  was  aware  of 

the  Door  being  hurriedlie  opened 
and  fhut,  and  a  Man  halting  forthe; 
but  'twas  onlie  mine  Uncle.  Mean- 
time, my  Hufband,  who  had  at  firft 
uttered  a  fuddain  Cry  or  Exclama- 
tion, had  now  left  me,  funk  on  the 
Ground  as  I  was,  and  retired  a  Space, 
I  know  not  whither,  but  methinks 
he  walked  haftilie  to  and  fro.  Thus  I 
remained,  agonized  in  Tears,  unable 
to  recal  one  Word  of  the  humble 
Appeal  I  had  pondered  on  m}^  Jour- 
ney, or  to  have  fpoken  it,  though  I 
had  known  cvcrie  Syllabic  by  Rote; 
yet  not  williing    mj-felf,   even  in  that 

Sufpenfe, 


247 


1646. 


248  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1646.  Sufpenfe,  Shame,  and  Anguifh,  elfe- 
where  than  where  I  was  caft,  at 
mine  Iliiibancrs  Feet. 

Or  ever  I  was  aware,  he  had  come 
up,  and  caught  me  to  his  Breaft: 
then,  holding  me  back  foe  as  to  look 
me  in  the  Face,  fayd,  in  Accents  I 
fliall  never  forget, 

"  Much  I  coulde  fay  to  reproach, 
"  but  will  not !  Henceforth,  let  us 
"  onlie  recall  this  darke  Paffage 
"  of  our  deeplie  finfulle  Lives,  to 
''quicken  us  to  God's  Mercy  in 
'•''■  affording  us  this  Re-union.  Let 
"  it  deepen  our  Penitence,  enhance 
"  our  Gratitude." 

Then,  fuddainlie  covering  up  his 
Face  with  his  Hands,  he  gave  two 
or  three  Sobs  ;  and  for  fome  few 
Minutes  coulde  not  refrayn  himfelf; 
but,  when  at  length  he  uncovered 
his  Eyes  and  looked  down  on  me 
with  Goodnefs  and  SweetnelTe,  'twas 

like 


of  Mary  Powell. 


like    the    Sun's    cleare    fhining    after 


Raine. 


Shall  I  now  deftroy  the  difgrace- 
fulle  Records  of  this  blotted  Book  ? 
I  think  not ;  for  'twill  quicken  me 
perhaps,  as  my  Hufband  fayth,  to 
"  deeper  Penitence  and  fhronger 
"  Gratitude,"  fhoulde  I  henceforthe 
be  in  Danger  of  fettling  on  the  Lees, 
and  forgetting  the  deepe  Waters 
which  had  nearlie  clofed  over  mine 
Head.  At  prefent,  I  am  foe  joyfulle, 
foe  lisht  of  Heart  under  the  Senfe 
of  Forgiveneffe,  that  it  feemeth  as 
though  Sorrow  coulde  lay  hold  of 
me  noe  more  ;  and  yet  we  are  ftill, 
as  'twere,  difunited  for  awhile  ;  for 
my  Hufband  is  agayn  fhifting  Houfe, 
and  preparing  to  move  his  increafed 
Efhablifhment  into  Barbican^  where 
he  hath  taken  a  goodly  Manfion ; 
and,  until   it  is  ready,  I   am   to  abide 

here. 


249 


1646. 


250  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1646.  here.  I  might  pleafanthe  cavill  at 
this ;  but,  in  Truth,  will  cavill  at 
Nothins:  now. 

I  am,  by  this,  full  perfuaded  that 
RalpIPs  Tale  concerning  Mifs  Davies 
was  a  falfe  Lie  ;  though,  at  the  Time, 
luppofmg  it  to  have  fome  Colour, 
it  inflamed  m}'  Jealoufie  noe  little. 
The  crofs  Spight  of  that  Youth  led, 
under  his  Siller's  Management,  to 
an  IlTue  his  Malice  never  forccafh ; 
and  now,  though  I  might  come  at 
the  Truth  for  Inquiry,  I  will  not 
foe  much  as  even  foil  my  Mind 
with  thinking  of  it  agayn  ;  for 
there  is  that  Truth  in  mine  Huf- 
band's  Eyes,  which  woulde  lilence 
the  Slanders  of  a  hundred  Liars, 
Chafed,  irritated,  he  has  beene, 
foe  as  to  excite  the  farcaftic  Con- 
ftru6lions  of  thofe  who  wifh  him 
evill  ;  but  his  Soul,  and  his  Heart, 
and     his     Mind     require     a     Flighte 

beyond 


of  Mary  Powell. 


beyond  Ralpli  s  Witt  to  compre- 
hende ;  and  I  know  and  feel  that 
they  are  mine. 

He  hath  juft  led  in  the  two 
Phillips's  to  me,  and  left  us  together. 
Jack  lookt  at  me  afkance,  and  held 
aloof;  but  deare  little  Ned  threw 
his  Arms  about  me  and  wept,  and 
I  did  weep  too  ;  feeing  the  which, 
Jack  advanced,  gave  me  his  Hand, 
and  finally  his  Lips,  then  lookt  as 
much  as  to  fay,  "  Now,  Alle's  right." 
They  are  grow^n,  and  arc  more 
comely  than  heretofore,  which,  in 
fome  Meafure,  is  owing  to  theire 
Hair  beinsr  noe  longer  cut  ftrait  and 
fliort  after  the  Puritanicall  Fafhion 
I  foe  hate,  but  curled  like  their 
Uncle's. 

I  have  writ,  not  the  Particulars, 
but  the  Iffue  of  my  Journey,  unto 
Rofe^  whofe  loving  Heart,  I  know, 
yearns     for    Tidings.       Alfoe,     more 


251 


1646. 


brieflie 


252  Maiden   &  Married  Life 

1646.       brieflie  unto  my  Mother,  who  loveth 
not  Mr.  Milto7u 


Barbican. 
September.  In  the  Night-feaion,  we  take  noe 
Reft ;  we  fearch  out  our  Hearts, 
and  commune  with  our  Spiritts,  and 
checque  our  Souls'  Accounts,  before 
we  dare  court  our  Sleep  ;  but  in  the 
Day  of  Happineffe  we  cut  fhorte  our 
Reckonings  ;  and  here  am  I,  a  joy- 
fulle  Wife,  too  proud  and  bufie 
amid  my  dailie  Cares  to  have  Leifure 
for  more  than  a  brief  Note  in  my 
Diariiinij  as  A^ed  woulde  call  it. 
'Tis  a  large  Iloufe,  with  more 
Rooms  than  we  can  fill,  even  with 
the  Phillips's  and  their  Scholar-mates, 
olde  Mr.  Mifloji,  and  my  Hufband's 
Books  to  boot.  I  feel  Pleafure  in 
being  houfewifelie ;  and  reape  the 
Benefit  of  alle  that  I  learnt  of  this 
Sorte  at  Sheep/cole.     Mine  Hufband's 

Eyes 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Eyes  follow  me  with  Delight  \  and 
once  with  a  perplexed  yet  pleafed 
Smile,  he  fayd  to  me,  "  Sweet  Wife, 
"  thou  art  ftrangelie  altered ;  it 
"  feems  as  though  I  have  indeede 
"loft  'fweet  MolV  after  alle!" 

Yes,  I  am  indeed  changed  ;  more 
than  he  knows  or  coulde  believe. 
And  he  is  changed  too.  With  Payn 
I  perceive  a  more  ftern,  fevere  Tone 
occafionallie  ufed  by  him  ;  doubtleffe 
the  Cloke  alTumed  b}^  his  Griefe  to 
hide  the  Ruin  I  had  made  within. 
Yet  a  more  geniall  Influence  is'faft 
melting  this  away.  Agayn,  I  note 
with  Payn  that  he  complayns  much 
of  his  Eyes.  At  firft,  I  obferved 
he  rubbed  them  oft,  and  dared  not 
mention  it,  believing  that  his  Tears 
on  Account  of  me,  fmfulle  Soule ! 
had  made  them  fmart.  Soe,  perhaps, 
they  did  in  the  firft  Inftance,  for  it 
appears  they  have  beenc  ailing  ever 

fince 


253 


1646. 


254 


1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


fince  the  Year  I  left  him;  and  Over- 
ftuddy,  which  my  Prefence  mighte 
have  prevented,  hath  conduced  to 
the  fame  ill  Effe6l.  Whenever  he 
now  looks  at  a  lighted  Candle,  he 
fees  a  Sort  of  Iris  alle  about  it ;  and, 
this  Morning,  he  difturbed  me  by 
mentioning  that  a  total  DarknefTe 
obfcured  everie  Thing  on  the  left 
Side  of  his  Eye,  and  that  he  even 
feared,  fometimes,  he  might  event- 
uallie  lofe  the  Sioht  of  both.  "  In 
"  which  Cafe,"  he  cheerfully  fayd, 
"  ydu,  deare  Wife,  muft  become 
"  my  Le6lurer  as  well  as  Amanu- 
"  enfis,  and  content  3^ourfelf  to  read 
"  to  me  a  World  of  crabbed  Books, 
"  in  Tongues  that  are  not  nor  neede 
"  ever  be  yours,  feeing  that  a  Woman 
"  has  ever  enough  of  her  own  !" 

Then,  more  penfivelie,  he  added, 
"  I  difcipline  and  tranquillize  my 
"  Mind    on    this     Subje6t,    ever    re- 

"  membering, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  membering,  when  the  Appre- 
"  henlion  affli6ls  me,  that,  as  Man 
"  lives  not  by  Bread  alone,  but  b}^ 
"  everie  Word  that  proceeds  out  of 
"  the  Mouth  of  God,  fo  Man  like- 
"  wife  lives  not  by  Sight  alone,  but 
"  by  Faith  in  the  Giver  of  Sight. 
"  As  long,  therefore,  as  it  fhall 
"  pleafe  Him  to  prolong,  however 
"  imperfe6llie,  this  precious  Gift, 
"  foe  long  will  I  lay  up  Store 
"  agaynft  the  Days  of  Darkneffe, 
"  which  may  be  manie  ;  and  when- 
"  foever  it  fhall  pleafe  Flim  to 
"  withdrawe  it  from  me  altogether, 
"  I  will  cheerfully  bid  mine  Eyes 
"  keep  Holiday,  and  place  my  Hand 
"  truftfullie  in  His,  to  be  led  whi- 
"  therfoever  He  will,  through  the 
"  Remainder  of  Life." 

A     Honeymoon     cannot    for    ever 
laft ;     nor    Senfc    of    Danger,    when 

it 


255 
1646. 


256 

1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

it  long  hath  paft ;  —  but  one  Httle 
Difference  from  out  manie  greater 
Differences  between  my  late  happie 
Fortnighte  in  St.  Martin^ s-le-Grand^ 
and  my  prefent  dailie  Courfe  in 
Barbican,  hath  marked  the  Dif- 
tinftion  between  Lover  and  Huf- 
band.  There  it  was  "  fweet  Moll^^ 
"  my  Heart's  Life  of  Life,"  "  my 
"  deareft  cleaving  Mifchief;"  here 
'tis  onlie  "Wife,"  "  Miftrefs  Mil- 
"  /t??2,"  or  at  moft  "  deare  or  fvveet 
"Wife."  This,  I  know,  is  mafter- 
fulle  and  feemly. 

Onlie,   this    Morning,   chancing   to 
quote   one   of  his    owne   Lines, 

Thefe   T/migs  inay  Jlartle  ivell,  but 
not  ajiounde, — 

he  fayd,  in  a  Kind  of  Wonder, 
"  Why,  Moll.,  whence  had  you 
"that?  —  Methought  you  hated 
"  Verfing,    as    you    ufed     to     call     it. 

"  When 


of  Mary  Powell. 


257 


"  When  learnt  you  to  love  it  ? "  I 
hung  my  Head  in  my  old  foolifli 
Way,  and  anfwered,  "  Since  I  learnt 
"to  love  the  Verfer."  "Why,  this 
"is  the  beft  of  Alle!"  he  haflilie 
cried,  "  Can  my  fweet  Wife  be  in- 
"  deede  Heart  of  my  Heart  and 
"  Spirit  of  my  Spirit  ?  I  loft,  or 
"  drove  away  a  Child,  and  have 
"  found  a  Woman."  Thereafter, 
he  lefs  often  wifed  me,  and  I  found 
I  was  agayn  fweet  Moll. 

This  Afternoon,  Chrijlopher  Milton 
lookt  in  on  us.  After  fainting  me 
with  the  ufuall  Mixture  of  Malice 
and  Civilitie  in  his  Looks,  he  fell 
into  ealie  Converfation ;  and  pre- 
fentlie  fays  to  his  Brother  quietlie 
enough,  "  I  faw  a  curious  Penny- 
"  worth  at  a  Book-fball  as  I  came 
"  alons:  this  Mornin«:."  "  What 
"  was  that  ? "  fays  m}^  Hufband, 
brightening  up.  "  It  had  a  long 
s  "-Name," 


1646. 


258  Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1646.  "Name,"  fays  Chrijlophcr, — "I 
"  think  it  was  called  Tetrachordonr 
My  HullDancl  caft  at  me  a  fuddain, 
quick  Look,  but  I  did  not  foe  much 
as  change  Colour ;  and  quietlie  con- 
tinued my  Sewing. 

"  I  wonder,"  fays  he,  after  a  Paufe, 
'  that  you  did  not  inveft  a  fmall 
'  Portion  of  your  Capitall  in  the 
'  Work,  as  you  fay  'twas  foe  greate 
'  a  Bargain.  However,  Mr.  Kit^ 
'  let  me  give  you  one  fmall  Hint 
'  with  alle  the  goode  Humour 
'  imaginable  ;  don't  take  Advantage 
'  of  our  neare  and  deare  Relation 
•  to  make  too  frequent  Opportunities 
'  of  faying  to  me  Anything  that 
'  would  certainlie  procure  for  an- 
'  other  Man  a  Thraihing!" 

Then,  after  a  fliort  Silence  be- 
tweene  Alle,  he  fuddainlie  burft  out 
laughing,  and  cried,  "  I  know  'tis 
'■'•  on   the    Stalls ;     I've   feene   it,   Kit^ 

"myfelf! 


(9/"  Mary  Powell. 


a 


a 


myfelf!  Oh,  had  you  feene,  as 
I  did,  the  Blockheads  poring  over 
"  the  Title,  and  hammering  at  it 
"  while  you  might  have  walked  to 
"  Mile  End  and  back  !  " 

"  That's  Fame,  I  fuppofe,"  fays 
Chrijlopher  drylie ;  and  then  goes 
off  to  talk  of  foine  new  Exercife  of 
the  Prefs-licenfer's  Authoritie,  which 
he  feemed  to  approve,  but  it  kindled 
my  Hufband  in  a  Minute. 

"What  Folly!  what  Nonfenfe  !  " 
cried  he,  fmiting  the  Table  ;  "  thefe 
"  yacks  in  Office  fometimes  devife 
"  fuch  fenfeleffe  Things  that  I  really 
"  am  afhamed  of  being  of  theire 
"  Party.  Licence,  indeed  !  their 
"  Licence  !  I  fuppofe  they  will 
"  fhortlie  licenfe  the  Lengthc  of 
"  MoWs  Curls,  and  regulate  the 
"  Colour  of  her  Hoode,  and  forbid 
''  the  Larks  to  fmg  within  Sounde  of 
'"•  Bow   Bell,   and    the    Bees    to    hum 


U   7 


o 


259 


1646. 


26o 


1646. 


October. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


"o' 


Sundays.       Methoughte    I     had 
"  broken  Mabbot^s  Teeth  two  Years 


u 


agone  ;  but  I  muft  bring  forthe  a 
"new  Edition  of  my  Areopagitica ', 
"  and  ni  put  your  Name  down,  Kit., 
"  for  a  hundred  Copies  !  " 

Though  a  rufticall  Life  hath  ever 
had  my  Suffrages,  Nothing  can  be 
more  pleafant  than  our  regular 
Courfe.  We  rife  at  five  or  fooner : 
while  my  Hufband  combs  his  Hair, 
he  commonly  hums  or  lings  fome 
Pfalm  or  Hymn,  verfing  it,  maybe, 
as  he  goes  on.  Being  dreft,  Ned 
reads  him  a  Chapter  in  the  Hebrew 
Bible.  With  Ned  ftille  at  his  Knee, 
and  me  by  his  .Side,  he  expounds 
and  improves  the  Same  \  then,  after 
a  fhorte,  heartie  Prayer,  releafes  us 
both.  Before  I  have  finifhed  my 
Drefling,  I  hear  him  below  at  his 
Organ,    with    the    two     Lads,    who 

fing 


of  Mary  Powell. 


ling  as  well  as  Chorifters,  hymning 
Anthems  and  Gregorian  Chants,  now 
foaring  up  to  the  Clouds,  as  'twere, 
and  then  dying  off  as  though  fome 
wide  echoing  Space  lay  betweene 
us.  I  ufuallie  find  Time  to  tie  on 
my  Hoode  and  flip  away  to  the 
Herb-market  for  a  Bunch  of  frefh 
Radilhes  or  Creffes,  a  Sprig  of 
Parfley,  or  at  the  leafte  a  Pofy,  to 
lay  on  his  Plate.  A  good  wheaten 
Loaf,  frefh  Butter  and  Eggs,  and  a 
large  Jug  of  Milk,  compofe  our 
limple  Breakfafl ;  for  he  likes  not, 
as  my  Father,  to  fee  Boys  hacking 
a  huge  Piece  of  Beef,  nor  cares  for 
heavie  feeding,  himfelf.  Onlie,  olde 
Mr.  Milton  fometimes  takes  a  Ralher 
of  toafted  Bacon,  but  commonly,  a 
Balin  of  Furmity,  which  I  prepare 
more  to  his  Minde  than  the  Ser- 
vants can. 

After   Breakfafl,   I  well   know   the 

Boys' 


261 
1646. 


262 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1646.  Boys'  Leffons  will  laft  till  Noone. 
I  therefore  goe  to  m}^  Clofett  Duties 
after  my  Forcjl  Hill  Fafhion ;  thence 
to  Market,  buy  what  I  neede,  come 
Home,  look  to  my  Maids,  give 
forthe  needfuUe  Stores,  then  to  my 
Needle,  my  Books,  or  perchance  to 
my  Lute,  which  I  woulde  faine  play 
better.  From  twelve  to  one  is  the 
Boys'  Hour  of  Paftime  ;  and  it  may 
generallie  be  fayd,  my  Hufband's 
and  mine  too.  He  draws  afide  the 
green  Curtain,  — for  we  fit  moftly 
in  a  large  Chamber  fliaped  like  the 
Letter  T,  and  thus  divided  while  at 
our  feparate  Duties  :  my  End  is  the 
pleafanteft,  has  the  Sun  moft  upon 
it,  and  hath  a  Balcony  overlooking 
a  Garden,  At  one,  we  dine  ;  always 
on  fimple,  plain  Difhes,  but  dreft 
with  Neatneffe  and  Care.  Olde 
Mr.  Millon  fits  at  my  right  Hand 
and  fays  Grace  ;  and,  though  grow- 
ing 


of  Mary  Powell. 


ing  a  little  deaf,  enters  into  alle  the 
livelie  Difcourfe  at  Table.  He  loves 
me  to  help  him  to  the  tendereft,  by 
Reafon  of  his  Loffe  of  Teeth.  My 
Hufband  careth  not  to  fitt  over  the 
Wine ;  and  hath  noe  fooner  finifhed 
the  Cheefe  and  Pippins  than  he  re- 
verts to  the  Viol  or  Organ,  and  not 
onlie  fings  himfelf,  but  v/ill  make 
me  ling  too,  though  he  fayth  my 
Voice  is  better  than  my  Ear.  Never 
was  there  fuch  a  tunefulle  Spiritt. 
He  alwaies  tears  himfelf  away  at 
lafte,  as  with  a  Kind  of  Violence, 
and  returns  to  his  Books  at  lix  o'  the 
Clock.  Meantime,  his  old  Father 
dozes,  and  I  few  at  his  Side. 

From  fix  to  eight,  we  are  fcldom 
without  Friends,  chance  Vifitants, 
often  fchorlarlike  and  witty,  who  tell 
us  alle  the  News,  and  remain  to 
partake  a  light  Supper.  The  Boys 
enjoy  this  Seafon  as  much  as  I  doe, 

though 


263 


1646. 


264 

1646. 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 

though  with  Books  before  them, 
their  Hands  over  their  Ears,  pre- 
tending to  con  the  Morrow's  Tafks. 
If  the  Guefls  chance  to  be  muficalle, 
the  Lute  and  Viol  are  brousfhte 
forthe,  to  alternate  with  Roundelay 
and  Madrigal :  the  old  Man  beating 
Time  with  his  feeble  Fingers,  and 
now  and  then  joining  with  his 
quavering  Voice.  (By  the  Way, 
he  hath  not  forgotten  to  this  Hour, 
my  imputed  Crime  of  lofmg  that 
Song  by  Harry  Lawes :  my  Hufband 
takes  my  Part,  and  fayth  it  will  turn 
up  fome  Day  when  leafte  expe6led, 
like  fti/iinian's  Panders.)  Hubert 
brings  him  his  Pipe  and  a  Glafs  of 
Water,  and  then  I  crave  his  Bleffing 
and  goe  to  Bed ;  firft,  praying  fer- 
ventlie  for  alle  beneathe  this  deare 
Roof,  and  then  for  alle  at  Sheep/cote 
and  Forejl  Hill. 

On    Sabbaths,  belides   the  publick 

Ordinances 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Ordinances  of  Devotion,  which  I 
cannot,  with  alle  my  ftriving,  bring 
myfelf  to  love  like  the  Services  to 
which  I  have  beene  accullomed,  we 
have  much  Reading,  Singing,  and 
Difcourlino:  among:  ourfelves.  The 
Maids  iing,  the  Boys  ling,  Hubert 
lings,  olde  Mr.  Milton  fmgs  ;  and 
trulie  with  foe  much  of  it,  I  woulde 
fometimes  as  lief  have  them  quiete. 
The  Sheep/cote  Sundays  fuited  me 
better.  The  Sabbath  Exercife  of 
the  Boys  is  to  read  a  Chapter  in  the 
Greek  Teftament,  heare  my  Hufband 
expounde  the  fame ;  and  write  out 
a  Syftem  of  Divinitie  as  he  dictates 
to  them,  walking  to  and  fro.  In 
liflening  thereto,  I  find  my  Pleafure 
and  Profitt. 

I  have  alfoe  my  owne  little  Cate- 
chiiing,  after  a  humbler  Sorte,  in 
the  Kitchen,  and  fome  poore  Folk  to 
relieve    and   confole,   with    my  Huf- 

band's 


265 


1646. 


266 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1646.  band's  Concurrence  and  Encourage- 
ment. Thus,  the  Sabbath  is  de- 
voutlie  and  happilie   paiTed. 

My  Hufband  alfoe  takes,  once 
in  a  Fortnighte  or  foe,  what  he 
blytheHe  calls  "  a  gaudy  Day," 
equallie  to  his  owne  Content,  the 
Boys',  and  mine.  On  thefe  Occa- 
lions,  it  is  my  Province  to  provide 
colde  Fowls  or  Pigeon  Pie,  which 
Hztbcrt  carries,  with  what  elfe  we 
neede,  to  the  Spot  fele6led  for  our 
Camp  Dinner.  Sometimes  we  take 
Boat  to  Riclunond  or  Greenwich. 
Two  young  Gallants,  Mr.  Alphrey 
and  Mr.  Miller,  love  to  joyn  our 
Partie,  and  toil  at  the  Oar,  or 
fcramble  up  the  Hills,  as  merrilie 
as  the  Boys.  I  muft  fay  they  deal 
favagelie  with  the  Pigeon  Pie  after- 
wards. They  have  as  wild  Spiritts 
as  our  Dick  and  Harry,  but  withal 
a  moft  wonderfull  Reverence  for  my 

Hufband, 


of  Mary  Powell. 


Hulband,  whom  they  courte  to  read 
and  recite,  and  provoke  to  plea- 
fant  Argument,  never  prolonged  to 
Wearineffe,  and  feafoned  with  Frolic 
Jell  and  Witt.  Olde  Mr.  Milton 
joyns  not  thefe  Parties.  I  leave  him 
alwaies  to  Dolly's  Care,  firfhe  provi- 
ding for  him  a  Sweetbread  or  fome 
fmalle  Relifh,  fuch  as  he  loves.  He 
is  in  Bed  ere  we  return,  which  is 
oft  by  Moonlighte. 

How  foon  muft  Smiles  give  Way 
to  Tears !  Here  is  a  Letter  from 
deare  Mother,  taking  noe  Note  of 
what  I  write  to  her,  and  for  good 
Reafon,  fhe  is  foe  diftraught  at  her 
owne  and  deare  Father''s  ill  Condi- 
tion. The  Rebels  (I  muft  call  them 
fuch,)  have  foe  ftript  and  oppreft 
them,  they  cannot  make  theire 
Houfe  tenantable ;  nor  have  Aught 
to  feede  on,  had  they  e'en  a  whole 
Roof    over     theire     Heads.         The 

Neighbour- 


267 


1646. 


268 


Maiden  &  Married  Life 


1646. 


Neighbourhoode  is  too  hot  to  holde 
them ;  olde  Friends  cowardHe  and 
fufpicious,  olde  and  new  Foes  in 
League  together.  Leave  Oxon  they 
muft ;  but  where  to  goe  ?  Father^ 
defpite  his  broken  Health  and  Hatred 
of  the  Foreigner,  muft  needes  depart 
beyond  Seas ;  at  leafte  within  the 
fix  Months ;  but  how,  with  an 
emptie  Purfe,  make  his  Way  in  a 
ftrange  Land,  with  a  Wife  and  feven 
Children  at  his  Heels  ?  Soe  ends 
Mother  with  a  '■'Lord  have  Mercy 
"upon  us!"  as  though  her  Houfe 
were  as  furelie  doomed  to  Deftruc- 
tion  as  if  it  helde  the  Plague. 

Mine  Eyes  were  yet  fwollen  with 
Tears,  when  my  Hufband  ftept  in. 
He  afkt,  "What  ails  you,  precious 
"Wife?"  I  coulde  but  figh,  and 
give  him  the  Letter.  Having  read 
the  Same,  he  fays,  "But  what,  my 
"  deareft  ?        Have    we     not     ample 

"  Room 


of  Mary  Powell. 


"  Room  here  for  them  alle  ?  I  fpeak 
"  as  to  General  Is,  you  muft  care  for 
"  Particulars,  and  ftow  them  as  you 
"  will.  There  are  plenty  of  fmall 
"  Rooms  for  the  Boys  ;  but,  if  your 
"  Father,  being  infirm,  needes  a 
"  Ground-floor  Chamber,  you  and 
"  I  will  mount  aloft." 

I  coulde  but  look  my  Thankfulle- 
"nefle  and  kifs  his  Hand.  "Nay," 
'he  added,  with  increafing  Gentle- 
neflTe,  "think  not  I  have  feene  your 
"  Cares  for  my  owne  Father  without 
"  loving  and  blefling  you.  Let  Mr. 
"  Powell  come  and  fee  us  happie ; 
"  it  may  tend  to  make  him  foe. 
"  Let  him  and  his  abide  with  us, 
"  at  the  leafl:e,  till  the  Spring :  his 
"  Lads  will  Studdy  and  play  with 
"  mine,  your  Mother  will  help  you 
"  in  your  Houfewiferie,  the  two  olde 
"  Men  will  chirp  together  befide 
"  the    C/iri/lniaJ/e   Hearth ;    and,   if  I 

"find 


269 
1646. 


270  Maiden  &  Married  Life 

1646.  "  find  thy  Weeklie  Bills  the  heavier, 
'  'twill  be  but  to  write  another 
'  Book,  and  make  a  better  Bargain 
'  for  it  than  I  did  for  the  laft. 
'  We  w^ill  ufe  Hofpitalitie  without 
'  grudging ;  and,  as  for  your  owne 
'  Increafe  of  Cares,  I  fuppofe  'twill 
'  be  but  to  order  two  Legs  of  Mutton 
' infteade  of  one!" 

And  foe,  with  a  Laugh,  left  me, 
moft  joyfulle,  happy  Wife  !  to  drawe* 
Sweete  out  of  Sowre,  Delighte  out 
of  Sorrowe  5  and  to  fummon  mine 
owne  Kindred  aboute  me,  and  wipe 
away  theire  Tears,  bid  them  eat, 
drink,  and  be  merry,  and  fhew 
myfelfe  to  them,  how  proud,  how 
cherifhed  a  Wife  ! 

Surelie  my  Mother  will  learne  to 
love  Jolm  Milton  at  laft!  If  ftie 
doth  not,  this  will  be  my  fecret 
Croffe,  for  'tis  hard  to  love  dearlie 
two    Perfons    who    efteeme    not    one 

another. 


of  Mary  Powell. 


271 


another.  But  flie  will,  fhe  muft, 
not  onlie  refpe6l  him  for  his  Up- 
rightneffe  and  Magnanimitie,  cou- 
pled with  what  himfelfe  calls  "  an 
"  honell  Haughtineffe  and  Self- 
"  efteeme,"  but  like  him  for  his 
kind  and  equall  Temper,  {iiot  ''  harfh 
"  and  crabbed,"  as  I  have  hearde 
her  call  it,)  his  eafie  Flow  of  Mirthe, 
his  Manners,  unaffe6ledlie  cheer- 
fulle  ;  his  Voice,  muficall ;  his  Per- 
fon,  beautifull ;  his  Habitt,  grace- 
full ;  his  Ilofpitalitie,'  naturall  to 
him  ;  his  Purfe,  Countenance,  Time, 
Trouble,  at  his  Friend's  Service  ;  his 
Devotion,  humble ;  his  Forgive- 
neffe,  heavenlie !  May  it  pleafe 
God  that  my  Mother  fhall  like  John 
Milt07i!   .... 


1646. 


FINIS. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A      000  264  092    8 


'.-jKytii 


1« 


r-I.Vitil'/iit</H^C»14Ua 


M^iiUiiiiiiMin: 


-•.•AKUMuuKVflHiiab 


